


Rattle my Lungs

by AshSeven



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Yuri Plisetsky, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-02-28 23:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 96,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshSeven/pseuds/AshSeven
Summary: Yuri's break was supposed to have lasted two months, not ten. He and Otabek were supposed to take their relationship slow. Yuri was supposed to be the best dancer in Saint Petersburg. Otabek was supposed to graduate from university and become the next Sia.They weren't supposed to have a baby.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JujuRotfuchs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JujuRotfuchs/gifts).



> First, yes that is an underage warning you see. This fic is to explore all the tension, stress, rough decisions, and tested relationships that come along with an unplanned, teen pregnancy. Proceed with the necessary caution.
> 
> Also, the ABO dynamics are pretty important to this fic (Mpreg etc.) but not the main focus, if anything the dynamics are pushed to the background - besides the obvious.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Chapter Warnings  
> \- Sexual content

Surprises, Yuri was now realising, only worked when everything was thought through properly. So fuck this, basically. He fished his phone out of the back pocket of his skinny jeans, tapping a long, purple nail against the screen as it took all of one second to unlock.

Me:  
Hey when does your class end?

It must have been a boring class, because Otabek replied almost instantly. Yuri had no idea how he managed to sit through those lectures without falling asleep

Beka:  
In two hours  
Why?

Yuri swore loud enough that he was sure the neighbours had heard. So what the fuck was he supposed to do now? He glared at Otabek's apartment door with the stupid brass number in the middle of the dark wood. He should just fucking kick it down. Groaning, he slumped to the floor, banging the back of his head against the wall. And the shitty thing was Otabek had changed his WiFi password and he knew that he was getting dangerously close to his data limit that month. He really should have fucking double checked Otabek's class schedule before hauling his ass across Moscow to surprise him.

A yawn barrelled out of nowhere as Yuri rested the side of his head against his suitcase. He pulled his hood over his head, even if his messy bun made it pull awkwardly against his neck, and shoved his cat-eyed shades onto his face. Otabek probably wouldn't like it if he came home from class to find him passed out on his doorway like a homeless person in leopard print. He yawned again. But it wasn't like he had anything else to do, and he had gotten up at like dawn for his final appointment with the Podiatrist, and then his flight from Saint Petersburg had been delayed by two whole fucking hours and he had to wait at the gate. So, fuck it, Otabek would wake him up when he got home.

Except, even with all the yawning, he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep right there. He hadn't seen his best friend - or was it boyfriend now - in months. And well, his stomach was fluttering enough to keep him awake. He pulled out his phone again intending on have a fucking photo shoot to pass the time when the low battery notification popped up.

God fucking damn it.

Looking around frantically for an outlet, and what fucking apartment complex didn't have outlets in the hallway? Why was Otabek paying so much for this shit? He opened back up Otabek's chat.

Me:  
Can you leave early?

The one good think about Otabek was that he always replied within seconds.

Beka:  
No  
Why?

Me:  
Pleaseeeeeee

Beka:  
I can't just get up and leave

Me:  
You totally can  
You're in university not high school. You can do whatever the fuck you want and you can't get in trouble.

Beka:  
It doesn't work like that

Me:  
Just tell your professor there's an emergency

Beka:  
Is there?  
Why do you want me to leave?

Yuri grumbled, clicking his nails on the phone screen. Fuck this. He got up, and took a selfie of himself grinning widely in front of Otabek's door, the number clearly in view.

Me:  
Because I need to get in

Beka:  
What...  
Yuri!  
What are you doing here???  
Hold on I'll be home in fifteen minutes

Grinning, Yuri slid back to the floor. Okay well that solved that problem.

"I cannot believe you, Yuri Plisetsky," Otabek huffed, red faced probably from running all the way from the bus stop. He stopped right outside the door panting, his backpack hanging off of one shoulder and his hair tousled from him running his hands through it.

Yuri sprang to his feet. "Let me in."

Otabek sighed heavily, pulling out his keys from his pocket. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" He held the door open for Yuri to go through first, and grabbed his suitcase handle, pulling it in after them.

Yuri shrugged, bounding into the neat foyer of Otabek's two-bedroom apartment. "I wanted to surprise you."

"But it didn't occur to you that you needed to be let in?"

"Obviously not." He hopped over to the stainless-steel fridge, picking up a glass from the drain board and filling it with water from the dispenser. While taking a gulp he opened the fridge to see what snacks Otabek had. His parents always set him up with the good kinds of junk food.

Otabek grumbled, leaning over the granite breakfast bar, and stole Yuri's glass.

"Hey!"

"You come into my home, you don't even take off your shoes, and already you're raiding my fridge – Yura, get out of there." Yuri stuck out his tongue but closed the fridge. Otabek sighed again, setting the glass down on the breakfast bar. "Anyway, you're gone for six months and I don't even get a proper hello?"

A grin cracked along Yuri's lips, and he bounced around the bar. He ran at Otabek, flinging his arms around his neck, and fuck had he gotten taller than the last time they'd seen each other? Yuri could have sworn he didn't have to bend his neck  _this_ much to get on his eye level. Otabek wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling them together as he buried his face against Yuri's neck. Yuri fell against his chest, and grinned; finally after years of needling him to get more active, he had started going to the gym. It showed a bit. Something hot and gooey exploded inside Yuri's chest, and he tightened his arms around Otabek, smiling and inhaling his detergent-and-leather smell.

God, he had missed him so much. He was just now realised how torturous these past six months had been. It was the longest they had been apart, now that he thought about it. He had wanted to come back to Moscow for the New Year, but Yakov had sent the troupe off to another music video shoot at the very last minute and they had ended up rehearsing almost up until midnight on New Year's Eve. It had been a very long six months. He turned his head to place a soft kiss to Otabek's cheek as his chest fluttered with a build up of warm fuzz. Otabek, though, jerked back as if he had bitten him instead. His dark eyes went wide, his mouth hung open in shock, and his cheeks began to redden.

Yuri narrowed his eyes, pulling away. "Are you serious right now?" Otabek's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "You're getting flustered over a kiss on the cheek, but you were literally sucking on my tongue before I left for the airport last time."

He looked off to the side, hanging his head in embarrassment. Yuri felt the muscles in his arms tense as they fell to his hips.

"I... well... Don't say it like that..."

Yuri breathed out deeply through his nose. "Then how should I say it?"

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips and he looked at a spot past Yuri's ear. Yuri rolled his eyes, letting his arms slide down Otabek's back, very slowly inching to his butt. "I don't know, just – Yuri!" he ended in a squeal – although he would never admit that he had _squealed_ – and yanked Yuri's hands from his ass, squirming away. Yuri grinned deviously, getting in one last pinch before Otabek was out of reach. "Yura," he admonished with a small frown on his face.

" _That_ was payback for kissing me like a second before I had to get into the fucking taxi." He stuck out his tongue. Otabek's blush deepened, and Yuri closed the distance between them again, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. "What the actual fuck was that?"

Otabek bit his bottom lip. "I... uh. I couldn't just let you go. _And_ you were gone for six months this time-"

"Of course you would count-"

"And I'm glad I did it." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and his arms fell loosely around Yuri's waist.

This idiot. Yuri shook his head slowly, feeling a blush grow on his own cheeks as well. He leaned forward, bringing a hand up to the back of Otabek's head to press his fingers against his undercut. His mouth stretched into a grin by itself as he tentatively pressed his lips to Otabek's. He half expected him to pull away again, but instead his arms tightened around him and he eagerly responded. Yuri's eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled sharply through his nose. Finally, after six long months, this was it; this was home. The gentle kiss didn't stay gentle for very long. After a few soft pecks – each getting deeper and longer –their hands were everywhere, feeling clothes, hair, and skin. They kissed as if they were hungry, mouths sealed together, only breathing when they absolutely had to.

It had been like this the last time too. Otabek had been standing quietly at Yuri's side while they waited by the curb for the taxi. He had seemed nervous about something, but Yuri had just figured that he was sad that he was leaving. He had glanced at his phone to check the time, then when he had looked up Otabek had practically leapt on him. He nearly lifted him off the ground, and Yuri couldn't even remember the wind chill from that day. They probably wouldn't have stopped if the taxi driver hadn't leaned on his horn, neither of them had even realised that the car had pulled up beside them. Yuri would have cussed him out if he wasn't about to spend the next twenty minutes in his car. He had spent the entire drive and flight, plus the drive to his apartment in Saint Petersburg, with his fingertips pressed to his buzzing lips while his breath came in shallow puffs.

"I've been telling everyone you're my boyfriend by the way," he mumbled breathily as Otabek kissed down his neck, yanking the collar of his shirt down his chest. He felt a puff of air as he sighed. "Hope that's okay."

Otabek's response was to wrap his hands around his thighs and hoist him onto the breakfast bar. Yuri gasped, wrapping his legs around Otabek's waist and cupping the back of his head as he continued to suck on the side of his neck. He shimmied between Yuri's legs, and Yuri hooked his ankles together at the base of spine. And these fucking jeans; Otabek was trying to get as close to him as possible but the stupid tight crotch kept him from making any contact. Still, Yuri's mouth fell open and he let out a raspy sigh, as the entirety of his insides squirmed in some sort of squishy pleasure, and there was a gush of wetness in his underwear. Swallowing, he tightened his thighs around Otabek's waist, gently pressing the back of his head against his neck. He probably already had a giant bruise there – thanks to his pale skin – but he didn't care, it was actually kind of hot to think about. Otabek marking him. He tilted his head further to the side, moaning when he felt Otabek's teeth sink into muscle.

"So, it was okay then?" He was panting. Why the fuck was he panting already? Never mind the fact that his heart was going as fast as if he had just finished an intense practice. Otabek paused for a moment before lifting his head from Yuri's neck. His lips looked a bit swollen –but they were already naturally so full that Yuri wanted to scream at him every time he saw them – and his eyes were glassy, yet his dark gaze was so hot that Yuri felt as if a spot light was on him.

"Yeah," he mumbled, running his palms up and down his thighs. His hands were hot even through the thick denim. Yuri's mouth went dry; literally all the liquid in his body had rushed south and was slowly seeping out his ass. He needed him so fucking badly right now. He joined their mouths together again rough enough that their teeth crashed together painfully, but neither of them cared much; Yuri had his eyes set on a goal, and Otabek was all too happy to follow.

Otabek threw Yuri onto the couch, the leather was cold against his back; his clothes were already long gone by then, shed somewhere along the way from the kitchen to the living room. Otabek, himself, was only in his boxer-briefs. Yuri remembered buying him those – black and grey leopard-print – for a birthday once. Pressing him into the couch, Otabek kissed him fiercely, all teeth and slippery tongues; it was almost impossible to get a breath out. He was still able to find his voice, if only for a second.

"Beka," he threaded his fingers through the long hair at the top of his head. Otabek's chest rumbled as he hummed in answer. Yuri swallowed thickly, wetting his lips with a parched tongue. "How far..."

Otabek pulled away enough to stare right into his eyes. "As far as you want to."

Yuri could get lost in his eyes, as cheesy as that sounded. Black was his favourite colour. He curled his lips into his signature devious smirk. "Fuck. Me."

Otabek's eyebrows shot up his forehead, and his gaze lost focus for a split second. Yuri bit his bottom lip, watching as he took a moment to catch himself. When he did, though, it was like a different Otabek was with him on the couch. He folded Yuri nearly in half, pushing his knees to his chest. Yuri had to breathe through his mouth, panting so hard as he watched as Otabek traced a single finger around his entrance. He saw Otabek's throat bob as he stared, and he should have felt embarrassed, but there was something so thrilling about it all. His eyes rolled back into his skull with the first finger, so thick and long with hardened pads from guitar strings, so different from his own and just like how he'd imagined.

This wasn't the first time for either of them, but fuck if anyone else had taken this much time to prepare him. By the time Otabek took himself in hand to line up, Yuri was a mass of long trembling limbs and sweat, holding onto Otabek's shoulders with all his strength, digging his nails into his shoulders. Otabek was biting his lips; Yuri knew he was trying so hard to keep control. He didn't want him to, though. They locked gazes again, eyes hot like coals. Yuri's heart thudded heavily against his ribs and he held his breath. Otabek pushed in without looking away, he went slowly, every single muscle in his body was straining and Yuri could tell that he was clenching his jaw. He appreciated it, though, Otabek was huge to put it mildly, and well he hadn't even thought about having sex with anyone else since he'd kissed him six months ago. They were both breathing heavier when he bottomed out.

Yuri's neck felt like a soggy noodle as he threw his head back against the couch. Otabek's mouth was at his neck again, biting and sucking at the hollow under his ear, he could feel his breath scalding his skin as he breathed in as deeply as he could. Picturing himself with a bond mark, was enough to make his ass muscles clench, and Otabek and to pull away to moan deeply, nearly losing his rhythm.

"Yura," he moaned, one hand tracing down Yuri's hip and thigh.

"Thought of you bonding with me." His words were all slurred and jumbled; he gasped, scrabbling against Otabek's back at a particularly sharp thrust.

Otabek stilled for a second; Yuri felt him twitch inside of him.

He drew back again, to look him straight in the face. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were glassy, even as a small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows when he frowned. It was amazing, though, that he was still able of such coherence. "That's a bad idea." His voice was definitely strained.

"I _know_ ," he muttered, breaking eye contact. "I just... Iliketheideaofit." It was impossible to tell if he was blushing any harder.

Otabek's chest heaved as he sighed, but then the sigh turned into a chuckle. "Someday, Yura."

Unable to stop himself, Yuri grinned widely. Despite the fact that Otabek was literally balls deep inside of him, his chest went fuzzy and an army of caterpillars went through metamorphosis in his stomach at his words.

 

So, that had just happened. Yuri felt breathless as he lay against Otabek's chest on the carpet. His heart was still racing and he knew for a fact that he was going to be sore in all kinds of places tomorrow. Namely his ass, he could already feel the tenderness between his legs. Otabek's chest was dramatically rising and falling as he gently stroked the small of Yuri's back with his thumb. They should have done this _years_ ago. They both had wanted to. He knew, from all the lingering hugs, long stares, shared drinks, scarves and beds, sleepovers, dinners, and FaceTime calls. He didn't remember when he had realised that he loved Otabek as more than his best friend, or when Otabek realised the same thing. But, he would have pulled out his hair if neither of them hadn't done anything about it. He let out a deep sigh, feeling his ribs press into Otabek's stomach. Thank God for him, though. Yuri didn't think he could have taken one more FaceTime call without saying something. His grandpa was going to give him that annoying self-righteous smirk and repeat the story of how he caught Yuri kissing Otabek on the cheek under the slide in the playground when he was like six. Maybe he had realised he loved Otabek when he was five? He scoffed, nuzzling against the middle of Otabek's chest as his cheeks began to smoke. Well, if they hadn't come full fucking circle – and then some.

"You okay?" he asked, trying to hide the fact that he was panting. As if Yuri wasn't lying on top of him.

"Yeah." He squirmed, grunting when his lower back twinged.

"Sore?"

"A bit." Otabek winced, his face falling into guilty. Yuri slapped his shoulder. "Stop that."

"Sorry."

He rolled his eyes and rolled off of him. A wave of tangled hair blocked his vision for a second. Fuck, this was going to take _ages_ to un-knot. When he managed to get his hair out of his face and untangle the hair elastic, Otabek was smirking at him. Scowling, Yuri made a slingshot with his elastic and stung him on the shoulder. Otabek grunted and Yuri sprang to his feet, giggling, but froze as he straightened his spine. God, his ass fucking hurt. He braced a hand on the small of his back, and was that actually Otabek's cum sliding between his cheeks? His face went to boiling almost instantly.

"Yura?" Otabek was reaching out to him from the floor. His hair was a mess; some parts were stuck to his forehead with sweat, others stuck straight up in clumps. It was impossible to tell with his dark eyes, but Yuri was positive that his pupils were still blown. He looked like a fucking god. He swatted him with his foot. It was unfair; he was a mess with this bird's nest on top his head  _and_ a sore ass.

"What?"

"Come back."

His blush went all the way down his chest and up to his forehead. "I'm gonna fall asleep, and there's no way in hell I'm sleeping on your floor."

Otabek huffed in laugher and groaned as he propped himself up on his elbow. "Go start a bath then. I'll be there in a second."

Yuri bit his lip to hide a smile. "You better have new soap. If I end up smelling like fucking sandalwood and smoke, I swear I'm never coming over here again."

Otabek rolled onto his stomach, arching his back to keep eye contact. "You damn well know there's a bottle of your body wash still in there."Holy shit, _those_ were definitely scratch marks all over his back and shoulders. Okay, he really needed to cut his nails, but short nails didn't look as good with polish. Whatever, Otabek didn't seem to mind.

Yuri snorted and flounced as best as he could to the bathroom. "Stop staring at my ass," he yelled over his shoulder.

Yuri had already sunk into the foamy water and pulled his detangled hair into a bun by the time Otabek came into the bathroom with his iPad in hand. Yuri grinned at him, pressing his back against one of the jets; it felt heavenly against the small of his back. Otabek wrinkled his nose at the amount of bubbles in the tub and Yuri rolled his eyes at his boxer shorts.

"Why the hell did you put those on if they're going to come right back off?"

Otabek scowled at him. "Because I have a sense of decency, unlike a certain someone."

Yuri stuck out his tongue and flicked a piece of foam at him. "Who needs decency when you had your dick in my ass like a minute ago?"

Otabek turned red instantly. "Why are you so vulgar?"

Yuri made a foam beard, mostly to hide the fact that he was blushing too.

Otabek shook his head as he set the iPad on the sink counter. In a quick, smooth motion – like he was still embarrassed – he yanked his boxers off and slipped into the tub behind Yuri. Water sloshed around the tub as they got comfortable, Yuri sitting between Otabek's legs with his head against his chest. He had pulled his tangled hair into a bun to keep it dry, but he could already feel wetness at the back of his head.

"This is your song," Yuri pointed out as they fell into silence. Music was playing softly in from the iPad.

Otabek's chest jumped as he scoffed. "How did you-"

"It's been all over the place, idiot. Of course I would look it up."

He knew without looking that Otabek was blushing. "I... uh,"

"So, look who's come a long fucking way since I forced you to make a YouTube account." He felt Otabek's forehead against his shoulder. "Congrats by the way." He twisted his neck to gently kiss his temple. "I wanted to tell you that in person. But I've also been telling my dance group that I'm dating the next Sia."

" _Yura-"_

"How many subscribers do you have now? Huh? Yeah, shut up."

Otabek huffed softly before leaning back against the side of the tub and loosely winding his arms around Yuri's waist. Holding back a yawn, Yuri made himself more comfortable against Otabek's chest.

"Did you tell your parents this time?" he mumbled, eyes already closing. When Otabek tensed, however, they shot back open. "You didn't? Are they still on about that shit?"

Otabek sighed. "They'll never _not_ be on about that shit."

"Why can't they just be proud of you already? God."

Otabek shrugged with one shoulder, sloshing water into Yuri's hair. "That's why I have you and Grandpa Nikolai."

Yuri grinned, turning around and straddling his lap. He hooked his arms around his neck, getting suds in his undercut, and gave him a slow, gentle kiss.

 

"Where's Beka?" Yuri's grandpa asked almost as soon as he set foot through the door. "I told you to invite him over."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "He doesn't need an invitation. _And_ I haven't been here in six months and the first thing you do is ask for _Beka_?" He folded his arms across his chest, pretending to be annoyed. It was worth the wide grin that broke across his grandpa's face. He wrapped Yuri in a tight hug, groaning as he tried to lift him. " _Deda, don't_ – your back-"

"My back is fine." He patted the top of his bun, taking a step backwards and releasing him. "Go put your bag down, dinner will be ready soon. Viktor and Yuuri are on their way."

"Ugh, you invited them?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Yuri rolled his eyes and, as if right on cue, there was half a knock on the door. The bane of Yuri's existence raced down the hallway, arms wide open. "Yurochka!" He didn't duck in time. "Welcome home!"

"Let me go!" Yuri squirmed, but Viktor only held on tighter. "How did you even know I was here?"

"We saw the taxi drive off." Yuri's head snapped towards the door where Katsudon was taking off his shoes. He glared, narrowing his eyes to slits. The fire in his eyes was not diminished at all by the fact that his feet were dangling above the floor. "Okay, Vitya, that's enough."

He was let down in a heartbeat. These fucking idiots.

The smell of Grandpa's cooking was one of the few things Yuri missed about Moscow. Freshly baked fisherman's pie, with boiled spinach mixed with the smell of old wooden floors and tobacco. He had to take a moment just to take it all in, closing his eyes when he felt his grandpa rest a heavy hand on his shoulder. He would still have to watch his weight even if he was on forced medical leave, but there was no way he was going to refuse his grandpa's food.

"So, what's wrong with your leg?" Viktor asked almost as soon as they all sat down at the small, round table. Katsudon slapped his forehead and winced. Tactless, as always.

Yuri sighed around a mouthful of spinach. "It's my _ankle_. I strained a ligament; you wouldn't understand." Never mind the fact that he was a doctor. An ENT, so it wasn't like he actually knew anything about feet. 

"Is it bad?" The insult didn't penetrate his big, stupid, shiny forehead.

"Well I can't fucking dance on it now-"

"Language, Yurochka," his grandpa warned.

"Oh, that's a shame," Viktor sighed, grabbing Katsudon's hand and entwining their fingers. "Yuuri was hoping that you would come into the studio and give the kids a demonstration."

" _Viktor_ ," Katsudon looked frustrated, but Yuri knew better. He cleared his throat, and slowly shook his head. "I was going to ask you _before_ we found out about your ankle. You're still welcome to come in; I know the kids would love to see you."

Yuri shrugged. "I'll think about it."

His grandpa scoffed. "You'll _think about it_? What else do you have to do; Beka has classes all day."

Yuri felt himself blush and stabbed a chunk of mashed potato. Katsudon and Viktor shared an amused look.

"So, you'll be free to babysit for us!" Viktor smiled widely at him.

"Who says I want to be anywhere near your spawn?"

"Nikitok, has been looking forward to see you," Katsudon said softly, knowing full well that Yuri couldn't say no to the six-year-old. He blamed his damn brown, doe-eyes. He didn't even like kids. Nikita and Amaya were no exception. But they would end up at his grandpa's house sooner or later, and knowing Nikita, it would be sooner. Fuck Viktor and his overpowering genetics.

Slamming his fork to the table, he got up making sure that the chair legs screeched as they scraped against the floor. "I need a drink."

Katsudon babbled as Yuri rounded the corner into the kitchen, making a straight line to the liquor cabinet.

"Yuri, you're still seventeen-"

"Relax," his grandpa's voice boomed over Katsudon. "No policemen are going to jump out from anywhere. And who cares?"

He heard Katsudon clear his throat. Like he didn't know his older sister, Mari, had gotten him drunk off of saké the last time she had come to Moscow. He had been in the same room as them. He _had drank from the bottle_.

He took a snap of himself holding a bottle of vodka up to his face and sent it to Otabek with the caption 'Viktor and Katsudon are going to make me babysit'.

Otabek was supposed to have been studying, but he replied suspiciously quickly with a picture of himself smirking, reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose. 'What are you talking about? Kids are great.'

He switched to text chat.

Beka:  
I know you like them. Why the act?

Me:  
It's not an act

Beka:  
But you're great with them  
Nikitok LOVES you

Me:  
Kids are only fun when they go home at the end of the day

Beka:  
I'll remind you that when you spend the night at Viktor and Yuuri's because you don't want to say goodbye

Me:  
Ass  
I only did that twice

Beka:  
:)

Me:  
I will suffocate you while you sleep

He was grinning as he walked back out to the dining room with the bottle of vodka and tucked his phone into his pocket before he sat down.

"Talking to Otabek?" Viktor asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"He's not the only person I talk to," Yuri grumbled, taking a swig from the bottle. His grandpa gave him a warning glare before grabbing it away from him.

"So, yes." Viktor sighed, falling against Katsudon's shoulder. "Young love is such a beautiful thing."

Yuri scowled. “Shut up! We're not like that." The lie was instinct at this point. His grandpa scoffed loudly and Katsudon raised an eyebrow in exasperation. Yuri didn't know why he even bothered. 

Viktor hummed then quickly un-pocketed his phone to type out something. Yuri's own vibrated a second later.

The Idiot:  
So that love bite you tried to cover up is nothing?

Yuri slapped his hand to his neck. "Shut up, you shitty old man!"

His grandpa hit him upside the head. "Watch your fucking language."

Katsudon erupted in laughter, laughing so hard that Viktor had to pat him on the back as he choked. Yuri rolled his eyes at them. Next time, Otabek was coming to visit him in Saint Petersburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I'm gonna say is this is going to be WILD.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **January 19th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	2. Chapter 2

There was no way he could tell Otabek this. Yuri bit his lip. Okay, maybe Otabek had been a  _ bit _ rough with him last night, but he had asked for it. Yuri  _had_ ridden him until his thighs gave out then made him take him from behind - it had been a good night once he had gotten Otabek away from his text books. He blushed, God, they had really done that; it was no surprise that he would have bled a bit. Otabek could not know, though, or he would never do anything like that ever again. It wasn’t a lot of blood, he had seen more when he broke toenails or popped blisters during dance rehearsal. Getting it out of the fabric would be a pain though, he grumbled, slipping out of his underwear and tossing them into the hamper; Otabek needed to do laundry anyway. 

“I thought you were going to make tea,” Otabek grumbled, shuffling from his bedroom, yawning and scratching his stomach. 

Yuri shrugged, tossing the last of the dirty clothes into the washing machine. “Your hamper was full.”

Otabek frowned, still groggy. “Okay,  _ I’ll  _ make the tea, then.”

Yuri grinned brightly, bending over for the detergent that he kept wedged between the side of the washing machine and the wall. “Thanks, babe.” 

“Yura,” his voice was all squeaky, yet still rough with sleep. Yuri looked at him from over his shoulder, biting his bottom lip to hide his grin. “Put on some pants, please.”

He turned away as his face grew warm and set the detergent on the corner of the washing machine. “I know you like the view.” 

Otabek groaned loudly in exasperation, banging his shoulder against  the doorframe with a loud thud as he stumbled away.

 

Yuri rolled over in his tiny bed, managing to tangle all of his limbs in the faded tiger sheets that his grandpa had given him for his twelfth birthday. He grumbled, settling on his back and throwing an arm across his face. It was too fucking early to be awake right now, but his stomach was rolling and spasming, sending wave after wave of nausea up to his head. It felt like he was on a fucking boat, like the time Yakov had taken him out on a yacht to meet someone important or some crap, and he had gotten seasick almost instantly. Expect worse, because it was seven am on a Tuesday and he was in bed with his favourite stuffed cat pulled against his chest and if he threw up on it he was going to be pissed. He breathed in deeply, hoping that would calm his rolling stomach. It helped a bit, so he took another and another. But, fuck. He groaned, biting his lip as his stomach lurched. Why was this happening? He screwed his eyes shut and tried to take deep even breaths as he waited for the wave of nausea to pass. But it didn’t. 

It wasn’t until his grandpa forced him to get up, he moved from the bed. Sitting at the breakfast table with his head propped in his palms, he breathed in deeply through his nose. His grandpa was making tea; ginger was supposed to help with nausea he said. 

“Here.” He set down a steaming mug of tea in the space between his elbows. The warm vapour felt good against his face, and the spicy scent did help a bit. He inhaled deeply already feeling the worst of the dizziness fade. “Did you go out last night?” his grandpa asked, sitting down across from him with his own mug. 

“No. Beka still has class; he refuses to do anything fun until summer break.”

He scoffed, taking a long sip of his tea after blowing away the steam. “He’s a smart boy.” He said with a small smile as he set down his mug with a clunk against the table.  “So, why are you sick?” 

Yuri wrapped both palms around his cup, still inhaling the vapours.“I don’t know. Maybe there’s something going around. Maybe Viktor’s spawn gave me something.” He ended in a loud gulp; his stomach was still trying to fight with him.

“Did you eat anything weird last night?” 

“No. I had the leftover borscht.”

He raised a sparse grey eyebrow. “You shouldn’t eat acid food right before bed.” 

Yuri grumbled, taking a slow, small sip from his mug. 

“Is it helping?” 

“A bit.” 

“Good. Go lie down after this. I can’t have you being useless for the entire day.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “What a kind and loving grandfather I have.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “And don’t you ever say otherwise.” 

The tea helped, and after he had taken a shower he felt much better. Only the tiniest bit of queasiness in his stomach remained. True to his promise, his grandfather kept him busy from the moment he said he was feeling better, but had let him go over to Otabek’s apartment later that evening. He spent the night, knowing that his list of chores would only grow if his grandpa saw his face. And, all the chores that day had him so exhausted that he tumbled into Otabek’s bed without a word and was snoring within seconds.

 

Otabek was ridiculously attractive, even more so hunched over a thick textbook with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose while he pressed the butt of his pen to his mouth. Yuri was sprawled out on his bed staring; it was fucking bullshit. He had been doing nothing but studying for the past week and his exams weren’t until mid June; they hadn’t gone out one night since Yuri had come home. And it was Friday; he was studying for exams he had weeks away on a fucking Friday. This whole week he had done nothing but nap and watch Netflix. He was about to pull out his hair if he didn’t do  _ something _ . 

“Beka, come on,” he whined, locking his phone after going through his Instagram feed for the second time.  _ No one  _ had posted anything new; they were all out fucking partying. “Let’s  _ do _ something.” 

Otabek sighed heavily through his nose. “I’m almost done the chapter.” 

“You’ve been reading for  _ hours _ .” He kicked his bare feet against the mattress. 

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “And if you keep on distracting me, it’ll take me longer.”

This fucker. He had come all the way from Saint Petersburg for this fucker, and all he was doing was studying. God, he just wanted to do something with him one night out of the week. Well, yeah university was important, but still. It wasn’t fair. He grumbled kicking his feet again and making the headboard bang against the wall. 

“Yuri,” Otabek warned.

He scowled, throwing his phone across the bed and got up. “Fine, if you don’t want to do anything tonight, I might as well go home.” 

Otabek looked up, tucking his pen into the valley between the pages of his book. “I’m almost done, I have three more pages to go.” 

That wasn’t even the point, though. He huffed in irritation; the skin at the back of his neck was itching. “You can read the entire book for all I care, I’m going home.” 

Otabek tilted his head. “You know how important exams are for me.” 

Yuri winced. Yes, he knew, but it was still annoying that even on a Friday night Otabek wouldn’t take a break. He kicked his foot against the floor, folding his arms across his chest. “Whatever.”

Otabek sighed, getting up from his seat. “Fine, I’ll take break.”

“You don’t have to just because of me,” he spat. 

“Okay, what’s the matter?” he came up behind him wrapping him tightly in a hug. “You’ve been grumpy since you got here.” 

“I’m not.” He rolled his eyes. Things were just more annoying today, especially right now. 

“You are,” Otabek insisted. “You’re very grumpy.” He hooked his chin over his shoulder, squeezing his waist lightly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

He kissed the side of his jaw. “What’s wrong?” 

Yuri sighed heavily, tilting his head away but Otabek pressed his lips to his bared neck. “Nothing’s wrong. I don’t know I just feel… ugh. I thought we could do something tonight, but if you have to study then forget it.” 

Otabek smoothed his hair back from his temples and neck. “Give me ten more minutes, then I’m all yours tonight.” 

The irritation left him like a popped balloon. God, Otabek was too fucking good to him sometimes. He bit his lip as cold guilt began pouring into his stomach. He shouldn’t have even come over tonight, he had known Otabek would be studying. “It’s okay,” he mumbled trying to pull away. “I’ll just go home. If you need to study then study.” His throat was suddenly tight too.

Otabek tensed slightly behind him as his arms  loosened. “I… uh. I want you to stay.” 

“But you have to study.” He looked up to the ceiling. He wasn’t going to fucking cry. Why did he feel like he was going to cry? 

“Ten minutes… baby. I promise.” 

“I don’t want to make you fail.” He rubbed at his face.

“You won’t. I needed to take a break anyway. What do you want to do?” 

Yuri sniffled. God, he was an actual piece of shit. “I don’t want to do anything. I want you to study.” 

He felt Otabek’s throat bob as he swallowed. “Are you… crying?” 

“No!” he pulled away, wiping his face roughly.

Otabek pulled him back, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tucking his head under his chin. “Bad day?” he asked softly, pressing his lips to his forehead. “ _Dedulya_ told me you were sick.”

Yuri swallowed, leaning against Otabek’s chest. “I’m fine.”

He hummed softly. “Okay, how about you order us some dinner and choose a movie? I should be done with the chapter by then.” 

He nodded, taking a deep breath letting Otabek’s body heat chase away the coldness in his stomach and chest. “Okay.” 

He kissed his forehead again before pulling away. 

“Beka? Do you think I’m annoying?” 

Otabek raised an eyebrow tilting his head to the side. “Absolutely.” His cheeks flushed and his eyes flickered to the side. “But… I - I like it.”

Exactly ten minutes later they were curled around each other on the couch, waiting for the delivery man. 

“I’m,” Otabek cleared his throat before mumbling, “I’m working on a new song.” He traced a pattern along Yuri’s thigh with his index finger. 

Yuri inhaled sharply. “For Youtube or your class?” 

Otabek bit his lip, the tips of his ears turned red. “Youtube.” 

Yuri planted a wet kiss to his cheek. “Can you show me?” 

Otabek hesitated for a few seconds, eyes flickering past Yuri's head as he considered the question. Yuri felt his heart thudding, from where he was leaning against his chest. “Yeah.”

He slid off his lap, grabbing his hand to yank him over to his studio. The second bedroom of his two bedroom apartment was his recording room; Yuri remembered him working after school and for two summers straight as an errand boy for the mechanic, five blocks away from Katsudon’s studio, to buy all of his music equipment. He’d gone with him to pick out a soundboard. 

Yuri sat down in the squishy desk chair while Otabek opened his computer, his cheeks reddening by the second. He clicked open a few files and pulled up some recording program or other. 

“It’s a bit rough still… I’m singing in this version.” 

Yuri grinned, almost bouncing in the chair with excitement. “This version?” He tilted his head sideways. “You’re not making  _ JJ _ sing again, are you?” 

“His voice is better than mine-”

“It is  _ not _ ! You’re just too fucking shy. Your voice is amazing; I don’t see why you have to ship everything off to fucking Canada.” 

Otabek swallowed thickly and shrugged. “It’s called collaborating.” 

“It’s called bullshit. Anyway, play it. I haven’t heard your voice in  _ years _ .”

His blush took over his entire face. Yuri wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his cheek against his stomach, as he hit play. 

 

“He made this himself?” Grandpa asked, eyes widening as the video played. 

“Yeah,” Yuri answered with a grin, from around the rim of his cup of ginger tea. Otabek’s Youtube channel was a mix of original music and covers or mixes of popular songs. His most popular video was the video he had gone to Canada to make with JJ. It was his song, but JJ was the lead singer while he had done the back up and harmony. It was one of the few videos that Otabek actually showed his face in. Somehow he hadn’t shown it to Grandpa, even though it was almost a year old. “That’s why he went to Canada last summer.”

He squinted at the screen. “Is that Nasiv?”

“Oh my God, no!” Yuri screwed his face up. “That’s JJ, they don’t even look alike.” He had met JJ on Skype once and really didn’t understand why Otabek liked him. 

“They could be brothers.” 

“That’s gross.” 

Grandpa shrugged, pulling the plate of freshly baked pirozhki towards him. Yuri wistfully watched him take a bite out of one; his stomach rolled and he had to take a deep breath, eyes shut and everything, to keep its contents in place.

“He seems like a nice young man. He has a good voice too.”

“Beka’s is better.” 

He smiled. “Are his parents still giving him trouble about his music?” 

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think they know about his channel.” 

He sighed heavily. “Fuckers,” he mumbled under his breath and Yuri nearly spit out his tea.

“ _Deda_!” 

“They are. That boy is a musical genius - I was the one who brought him to his piano  _ and _ violin classes, I know. If they would just listen for two seconds-” he cut himself off, banging the side of his fist against the table. 

“They’re not  _ bad _ parents,” Yuri ventured uneasily.

“No,” was the grudging reply. “But they're so fucking narrow-minded that it’s stifling  _ me _ .” Otabek called them  _ traditional _ . Yeah, it was fucking  _ tradition _ for every Altin child to study medicine or law in university. “Tell him to come over for dinner tomorrow.” 

 

“Hey, Yurochka?” Viktor poked him awake. 

Yuri jumped, his head snapping up as he blinked and nearly slid off the couch. “Wha?” Right, he was babysitting that night. He glanced around the living room, the television was off now and the overhead light was on, shining warm and yellow. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hunching over his knees, before glancing up at Viktor. 

Viktor smiled at him. “Yuuri brought the gremlins to bed. I’ll give you a ride home.”

He frowned looking around the carpet, knowing he’d left the kids somewhere around there. He spied Amaya’s stuffed bunny under the glass coffee table and dragged a hand down his face, feeling like he was wading through honey. So much for watching them. “What time is it?”

Viktor looked at his watch. “Eight forty-seven.”

“Fuck,” he swore shaking his head, to chase away the grogginess. “That’s not even… God, that show was so boring.”

Viktor chuckled. “Yeah, I think you outgrew  _ Fixiki  _ a while ago.” 

Yuri dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and held back a yawn. “They fell asleep too?”

“Amaya was out like a light. Nikitok woke up when we came in.” He shrugged. “It was past their bedtime anyway, and looks like it’s past yours too.”

“Fuck off.” Yuri rolled his eyes, but he felt like he needed three years of sleep right now. 

“Are you spending the night, or do you want me to take you home?” 

“Home,” he yawned. 

“Alright, let’s go.”

While Yuri was tying up his sneakers, Katsudon bounced downstairs, pausing at the foot of the stairs before fluidly sliding up to Viktor’s side and snatching the keys from his palm. “I’ll take him.” 

Viktor blinked slowly, looking down at his empty hand then to Katsudon. “You sure?”

Katsudon stretched up on the balls of his feet to peck him on the cheek. “Yes, love. You’ve had a long day.” 

Viktor smiled, catching Katsudon’s chin and pressing their mouths together briefly. Yuri looked away, pretending to be busy with his phone. 

“Is Viktor okay?” Yuri asked, waiting for Katsudon to unlock the car. 

“Uh,” he paused, juggling the keys before sliding into the driver's seat. Yuri tried his door, but it was still locked. “Sorry,” there was the click as the door unlocked. “Uh, yeah; he’s fine. Just he was at the hospital from seven am again today, and then we had that meeting at Nikitok’s school until eight.”

“How is he still walking?”

Katsudon shrugged. “He’s Viktor.” Well, true. “Thanks for watching the kids on such short notice by the way,” Katsudon said as he started the car. “The babysitter cancelled unexpectedly.”

“Nikitok likes me better anyway.” Yuri slumped against the door, resting the side of his head against the window.

“He does,” Katsudon answered chuckling. “He’s trying to hide it a bit now that he’s  _ six _ , but you should have seen his face light up when we said you were watching them tonight.” Yuri snorted, covering his mouth as it turned into a yawn. “He kept on asking when you were coming, he cleaned up his toys, made his bed,  _ and _ washed his hands twice -  _ I  _  can’t even get him to do that.” 

Yuri cracked a small smile, but hid it from Katsudon, by looking out of the window. “And then there’s Maya, who doesn’t give a shit.”

“Maya likes you too, she’s just a bit more subdued that Nikitok.”

“Everyone is more subdued than Nikitok.” 

Katsudon tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know. I remember a certain four-year-old throwing tantrums when he wanted Viktor to bathe with him.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. Of course Katsudon would remember the dumbest things. “Oh, sorry by the way, for not coming into the studio yesterday. I wasn’t feeling too well.” 

“Yeah, your grandpa said you threw up.”

He rolled his eyes; was he going to fucking tell everybody? “Yeah, probably caught something on the flight.” 

“But you feel better now?”

“Yeah, kinda nauseated this morning, but I’m fine now.” 

He glanced at Yuri out of the corner of his eye tilting his head sideways, and giving him a small sympathetic smile. “Well, if either one of the kids vomits tomorrow I’m leaving it right where it is for you to clean up.” 

“Fuck off-”

“You can always come in when you're feeling better; there’s not set date. I can just have the kids watch you dance in music videos on Youtube instead.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway, how’s Mila doing? And Lilia, and Yakov?”

“They’re fine,” he slumped into the seat, pressing into the headrest. “Mila just got a contract with a studio in England. So, she’s leaving next spring.” 

“Oh, that’s great news-”

“Yeah, for  _ her _ ,” he sighed loudly. “It means we have to find someone to replace her.  _ And  _ I’ll have to find a new roommate.”

Katsudon shook his head. “How terrible.”

He cut him a sharp scowl. “ _ It is _ .” 

 

“What’s this?” Yuri asked, as he toed off his shoes in the foyer of Otabek’s apartment. It smelt rich and heavy with spices and oil, distinctly like Kazakh cooking. He usually liked Otabek’s cooking but mild nausea had been plaguing him all day. He didn’t feel like eating at all. He kicked his shoes underneath the shoe rack Otabek had to the side of the doorway, trying not to inhale too deeply. 

Otabek grinned shyly, poking his head from around the wall to the dining area. “I made us lunch.” 

Yuri forced a smile, stepping up to him and wrapping his arms around his waist. He stretched up for a quick kiss hello. Otabek’s smile was wider when he pulled away. “What’s the occasion, though?”

He shrugged a shoulder, going back to looking shy - his cheeks turned the slightest bit red. “Well, I’ve been ignoring you-”

Yuri slapped his chest lightly. “Shut up. I was just being whiny that night.” 

He shook his head, squeezing his hip. “But you had a point. I’m kinda freaking out about my exams this semester.”  

“Was it harder than the last one?” 

“Yeah, a bit,” he sighed. “One of my professors is really difficult this year. I haven’t gotten anything higher than an eighty-”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Oh no, an eighty. You should just drop out now.”

Otabek huffed. “Yura…”

“I used to get  _ fifties _ , I didn’t give a shit. And look how that turned out.” 

“University is different than high school. And Grandpa Nikolai definitely gave a shit. What was the name of your tutor again?” 

“Shut up.”

“No, it wasn’t that.” 

Yuri glared at him, but then swatted him on the ass as revenge. Otabek jumped and spluttered, going tomato red. Yuri stretched up again to peck him on the lips before dashing away and leaving him short-circuiting. Worth it. 

Otabek set down two plates of plov on the high dining table. Yuri’s stomach churned unpleasantly  as he looked at the oily rice, yellowed with seasonings; he combated it with a sip of water from his glass.

“Wine?” Otabek asked, brandishing a bottle of some french red from his collection. 

Yuri wrinkled his nose, holding onto the edge of the table. “No.” 

“This one doesn’t taste like dirt, I promise. It’s sweet.” 

Just the thought of eating was making the nausea worse. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as alcohol. “No, I’m okay.” He had to slide halfway off the chair to rest a foot to the floor. 

Otabek shrugged, fishing out a wine glass from a cupboard and sitting down at his place. Yuri swallowed, looking down at his plate. He should probably try to eat something, apart from a mug of ginger tea he hadn’t had anything at all. Otabek was already silently eating, one hand curled around the stem of his glass. Taking another deep breath, he forked a heap of rice into his mouth. 

It didn’t even make it past his tongue. The reaction was instant; his stomach lurching, sending bile up to his mouth. He scrambled from the chair, probably kicking it over, and ran to the bathroom, one hand planted over his mouth. 

“Yura, are you okay?” Otabek stood over him, rubbing his back as he hacked into the toilet bowl. 

If he could have glared at him he would have. But his eyes were watering, his nose was burning, and his stomach felt as if it was trying to squeeze itself out through his throat. No, he was not okay. He rested his forehead against the cool seat, screwing his eyes shut as his stomach told him that it wasn’t quite done with making him feel like shit. 

“Was it the plov; I tried a new recipe,” he asked softly, apprehensively. 

“No.” He swallowed, gagging a few times before forcing up another stream of stomach acid. Gross. 

“You’re vomiting your guts out; there was something wrong with it.”

Yuri took a deep breath, and carefully sat back on his heels. Otabek was there within a second with a cup of water. Yuri took it, carefully sipping, but even the water sloshed around in his stomach. God, how did he say this without making him go into instant panic mode. “Just haven’t been feeling too well the past few days. It wasn’t your cooking I swear.” Otabek didn’t look too convinced, folding his arms across his chest, a pressing his lips firmly together. Yuri sighed, slumping against the wall and breathing in deeply, praying that he was done throwing up. “Do you have any ginger tea?”

Otabek perked up. “Yeah, I’ll go make some. You, uh...” he looked helplessly between Yuri and the toilet. 

“You can leave me alone. I’m not going to fall over and die. It’s just a bit of nausea.” He felt that way, though. 

It was a miracle that he made it into Otabek’s bed without falling over, his head was now spinning as much as his stomach. He dove under the covers, curling around a pillow and tried to concentrate on anything other than the intense nausea. Didn’t vomiting usually _help_? Moments later Otabek gently touched his shoulder. 

“Yura?”

He hummed. 

“Tea is on the nightstand. Can you sit up to drink?” 

Otabek sat behind him, letting him rest against his chest as he carefully sat upright, keeping his eyes shut firmly. A hot cup of tea was pushed into his hands and he gingerly took a sip. 

“Do you want some drugs?” Otabek asked softly, feeling Yuri’s forehead with the back of his hand. 

He shook his head. “It’ll pass. It always does.” 

“Always?” He combed his hair away so he could place a soft kiss to the back of his neck. “How long has this been going on?”

He shrugged. “The past week. It’s no big deal.”

“Yura-”

“I’ve been sick before.” He took a long drink. It was helping, somewhat. 

“You should probably go to the doctor. A week doesn’t sound too good.” 

“I don’t need to.”

“You should.” 

He let Yuri finish his tea in silence, curling around him when he lay back down. Breathing deeply helped. The tea had helped. Otabek kissing down the back of his neck, and smoothing his palms up and down his shoulders definitely helped. 

 

It was only a matter of time before Katsudon forced him to go to the doctor. He wasn’t even feeling sick that day; he was fucking fine. He had even called to make him cancel, but he had let it go to voicemail and pulled up in the driveway a few minutes later. And was it some goddamn fucking rule that all doctor’s offices had to have the absolute worst chairs? 

“Stop glaring like that. You’re here now, so suck it up.” Katsudon said cheerily. “You’re allergic to penicillin. That’s important.”

Yuri’s scowl deepened as he watched Katsudon point to a line on the form the receptionist had given him to fill out. “My appointment was at one. It’s one forty-five,” he grumbled, kicking at the leg of the chair next to him. This was fucking bullshit. “What’s the point of setting a time when you always have to wait.”

Katsudon sighed. “I think Vitya can explain that to you.” 

“It’s fucking bullshit.” God, he should just leave; he wasn’t even sick. 

“Hey, calm down, okay?” He gave him a small smile, reaching over to squeeze the thigh Yuri didn’t even realise he’d been bouncing. “It’s going to be okay. I know you're nervous, but we’re going to find out what’s wrong with you, then it’ll all be fine.”

“I’m not nervous-”

“Yuri Plisetsky?” The receptionist called. Yuri’s head shot up like an ostrich. “The doctor will see you now.”

He wanted to vomit. Ironic. 

“Come with me?” he asked softly, turning to Katsudon. 

He raised an eyebrow, before sighing softly. “You’re  _ seventeen _ , Yuri,” he grumbled, but stood up anyway. 

“It’s the second door to your left down the hallway. I’ll take that form, please.” 

He had always hated doctor’s offices. Waiting on his grandpa as tall men and women in white coats talked utter nonsense, when the Podiatrist told him he needed to take a break from dancing, even watching as Viktor’s residency and exams sucked every bit of energy out of him, none of them were good memories. And now he glared hard at the anatomy chart on the boring white wall. 

“Yuri,” Katsudon’s voice was firm when he touched his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine.”

He sighed, letting his shoulders slump, but jumped a foot when the door swung open. And there was the fucking white coat. 

“Mr. Plisetsky?” 

Yuri nodded. "It's just Yuri."

He nodded. “I’m Doctor Sokolov.” He held out his hand, Yuri hesitated to shake it. Katsudon gave him a one-armed side hug. “Please, have a seat.”

Yuri eyed the examination table pushed up against the wall. “On that?” 

The doctor smiled at him. “If you want to.” He remained standing, until Katsudon guided him into a plastic chair. 

“So what are we here for today?”

He bit his lip, glancing to Katsudon as he clenched clammy palms. 

Katsudon sighed softly for the millionth time that day. “He hasn’t been feeling too well lately. He’s been nauseated to the point of vomiting a few times. We thought it was just a stomach bug, but this has been going on for over a week, so we just wanted to make sure it wasn’t something serious.” 

Yuri held his breath as the doctor hummed, looking down at the clipboard he was holding against his lap. “That is definitely not good. A stomach bug you say? Have you been in contact with anyone else who was sick?” 

“He just came home from Saint Petersburg.”

He nodded. “Alright,” he looked down at the clipboard again, clicking his pen a few times. “Other than nausea, have you had any other symptoms?”

Katsudon turned to him expectantly, keeping his lips firmly closed. 

“Uh, not really. I don’t think so,” he mumbled, turning back to his hands and digging his nails into the fabric of his jeans. 

There was a beat of silence. “It says here you’re an omega, is that correct?” 

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat. 

“Do you remember the date of your last heat-”

“I’m on suppressants,” he blurted. Okay, he was definitely red now.

“Okay,” the doctor smiled up to his eyes. “That’s not a problem, don’t worry.” 

He took a deep breath, trying to appear calm, but Katsudon saw through it and squeezed his knee. 

“And are you sexually active?” His eyes flickered to Katsudon, before he settled on Yuri, unreadable, cold blue. 

Yuri's eyes widened and his felt his voice slip into his stomach. “Uh,” he couldn't say anything else. Katsudon squeezed his knee again, and he nodded, screwing his eyes shut and waiting for the both of them to flip out at him.

They didn’t. Katsudon moved his hand from his knee to wrap it around his shoulders instead. Yuri cracked an eye open.

“Okay, Yuri,” The doctor said calmly. He stood up from his stool, tucking the clipboard under his elbow. “I just want to rule out a few things before we move on to further testing. Would you be able to provide a urine sample?” He picked up a small clear container from the shelf behind him.

God, he hated doctors. 

Katsudon kept on stroking his forearm. He’d been silent since Dr. Sokolov had left the room after Yuri had given him back the container. With his fucking pee. He offered up a small smile ever so often, which was a good thing, because at least he wasn’t blabbing about whatever. Yuri’s stomach was tight, his eyes trained on the door and he could actually feel each second ticking away. He couldn't even find it in him to pull out his phone although it had vibrated a few times in his pocket. God, what if there was something actually wrong with him? What if he was going to die, or worse what if he couldn’t dance anymore? He’d kill himself if that happened. 

“Do you think it’s cancer?” he asked bitterly, bouncing his leg and pulling at the hem of his shirt. 

“ _ What _ ?” Katsudon did a double take before he settled on frowning. His glasses slipped down his nose when he whipped his head around. 

“What if I have cancer?”

“You don’t have cancer.” 

“They say you don’t notice stomach cancer until it’s too late.”

“No, it’s painful from the start. You don’t have cancer.”

Yuri huffed. “I might.” 

He swatted his shoulder. “Shut up. It’s not.” 

“But what if-”

The door swung open and Dr. Sokolov, strode in reading from a new set of papers. Both of them zeroed in on him, instantly forgetting their conversation. He sat down on his leather stool, before  looking up at them. There was a second's pause, his face remained unreadable, before he began to talk with a quick exhale. “I ran some basic tests, looking for spikes and fluctuations in… various hormone levels.” Something about that sentence made Yuri’s spine itch, while Katsudon drew in a sharp breath. He wheeled his stool closer to them, tilting the paper so the both of them could see. Yuri just saw a jumble of long words and numbers that made no sense. “Right here,” he clicked his pen and circled a number, “there’s an increase in progesterone and oestrogen, and here shows increased levels of LH and  hCG.” He knew those words from his health class or something. They were hormones, they had something to do with heats and -

“Oh, God,” Katsudon breathed, deflating next to him at the words. Fuck. His chair suddenly felt like it was sinking.

The doctor straightened, flipping the front page back over the results and clearing his throat. “Yuri, you're pregnant.” 

The words hit him like a kick to the stomach. He lost feeling in every part of his body except his stomach and chest which were tightening to the point of hurting. 

“What?” 

The doctor gave a firm nod. 

“I can’t be… I’m on birth control.”

There was a short pause. “It is possible for birth control to fail.There are several reason why...”

He couldn’t breathe. The world was narrowing to a tiny, grey pinpoint. The doctor’s voice was now a low rumbling noise and his chair was swaying so dramatically that he felt like he might fall off. No. This couldn’t be real. They were lying to him. It was a joke. A shitty joke. 

“No,” he mumbled, the word left him in a woosh. His mouth went slack and he couldn’t close it. God, what was he supposed to tell Otabek? His grandfather was going to disown him. He… he couldn’t dance anymore. This was going to ruin his career. His entire  _ life _ . He was fucking seventeen for God’ sake. He looked up, feeling as if he was leaving his body, floating up to the ceiling. He couldn’t see colours anymore. 

“Yuri,” Katsudon, was kneeling in front of him, his big brown eyes boring straight into his soul. He took both of Yuri’s hands in his, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “It’s going to be okay.” 

He collapsed into him. Something broke in his chest and let loose a flood of tears. A loud choking sound tore itself from his throat. Katsudon’s arms were tight around him, rubbing his back, stroking his hair and he was pressing his lips to his temples and forehead.

“It’s going to be okay.” He mumbled softly.

But he knew it wasn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And shit hasn't even hit the fan yet... 
> 
> I'm continuing on with this extra content thing like I did with WGAP. So, here are the [deleted scenes](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/post/169865701447/rattle-my-lungs-deleted-scenes-chapter-2) from this chapter.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **February 2nd** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings  
> -Yuri’s thoughts get pretty dark here - could be disturbing to some  
> \- mentions of abortion

 

This was it; the world was ending. He couldn’t even cry anymore, like his tear ducts had actually dried up. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Yuri curled up against the wall of Katsudon’s bathroom. His whole life was ending; he wouldn’t be able to dance anymore, and Otabek would leave him for sure, because what sane nineteen year old would be like ‘yeah, let’s have a baby even though I’m up to my ears in stress from one of the most competitive music universities in Moscow, for which my parents fought me every step of the way, so I have to be the best in my entire program to prove them wrong’. Yeah, a fucking baby was a great idea. Not to mention his grandpa was going to murder him then kick him out, because this was the exact same thing his mother had done and look how that had turned out. God, he was such a fuck-up. A colossal fuck-up.

He looked down at his stomach, with the rolls that always showed up when he sat down like this. He hated them even more, now that there was a fucking baby in there. Fuck, he was pregnant. Okay, he had lied before; his tear ducts hadn’t dried up. And now his stomach was gurgling and clenching, making him gag. God, he should be able to just vomit it out. He didn’t want it; he didn’t want a fucking baby. He dug his nails into his stomach, gritting his teeth against the almost razor-like sensation. He didn’t fucking ask for this. 

He screamed, banging the side of his fist against the tiled wall. His voice was raw and his throat hurt from vomiting. No! Just no no no no no no no! Fucking no! This wasn’t happening! It couldn’t be. No! The wall shook when he hit it the last time and his wrist was now throbbing and red. He cradled it to his chest, wincing as the slightest pressure on it sent painful jolts up his arm. Great. What was he even supposed to tell Lilia and Yakov? He was there on a fucking scholarship. He had literally one chance, and he fucked it up. His vision went blurry all over again. 

How could everything he had ever worked for come crashing down in a few moments? It wasn’t fucking fair! He didn’t ask for this; he didn’t want it. He pressed his palm into his stomach pushing until it hurt and he gagged again. Fuck. 

“Yuri?” Katsudon was knocking on the bathroom door. “Do you think you can eat something? It’s almost dinner time.”

Yuri wiped his face with the back of his hand. He wanted to yell at him, but he couldn’t find it in himself. He curled up tighter, pushing himself further into the space between the toilet and the wall. 

“Yuri?” The doorknob jiggled. “Yuri, please. You need to eat something.” There were a few moments of silence before he sighed loudly. “Viktor is bringing the kids home soon. If you’re still in there when they get back there’s gonna be a lot of questions.” 

Fuck. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet, biting his lip hard. His knees weren’t working properly and his entire body was stiff for sitting curled up so tightly for so long. But Katsudon was right, and he wouldn’t be able to take any of the questions. Not right now. And Nikita would have a lot of them. He unlocked the door and stumbled into a pair of waiting arms. He didn’t say anything, he just hugged. 

There was a long comforting silence, where Katsudon stroked his hair and wiped away the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I’ll draw you a bath, okay?” Katsudon said softly, smoothing a lock of hair from his forehead. Yuri nodded. “Do you think you can eat some dinner?” He shook his head. Katsudon's hug tightened briefly. “I have some candied ginger, I found it helped loads with the nausea. You should have some toast or crackers too, something light-”

“Did you know?” Yuri asked.

“Know?” 

“Did you figure out why I was sick?” 

There was the briefest of pauses, before Katsudon lead him from the bathroom to the living room and sat him down on the couch. “I… suspected it, I guess. I know the symptoms. But I knew you were on birth control, so I honestly thought that it could have been something else as well. I didn’t want to… say anything.”

Yuri sagged against him. So, that probably meant grandpa had suspected something too. Fuck. “What about Viktor, or my Grandpa?” 

“Viktor and I were more or less on the same page.” He sighed, rubbing circles into Yuri’s back. “I’m not sure about your grandpa, but I know he was very concerned. It’s going to be okay, we all love you, and we’ll help you through this. No matter what, okay?” 

Yuri scoffed bitterly. Katsudon didn’t know his Grandpa, if he thought that’s how it would go. Yuri nearly jumped when they heard the clank and rumble of the garage door opening. Seconds later, there was the unmistakable sound of Nikita and Amaya arguing and Viktor trying to calm them down. Katsudon sighed, squeezing Yuri gently before letting go. 

“Let’s go run the bath, before those two catch wind of you.”

Yuri nodded.

“Then we can sit down and talk once they’re in bed.” 

“I don’t want to talk.” His voice cracked. 

Katsudon nodded, guiding him upstairs. “Okay. Well, whenever you feel that you're ready; I’m here.” 

 

He woke up later that night when Nikita climbed into bed with him and snuggled against his chest. Yuri startled awake, nearly launching the child off the edge of the bed. He sighed softly, when he realised that it was Nikita, who had snuck out of his own room to crawl into bed with him, and let him nuzzle against his chest. 

“Papa, said you were sick,” he whisper-shouted; he hadn’t really mastered whispering yet. 

“Yes, so you shouldn’t be in here or you’ll get sick too.”

“It’s okay.” He pressed a tiny, warm hand to Yuri’s forehead. “When I’m sick Papa lets me sleep with him and Batya.” Yuri grumbled, burying his nose in fine, dark hair that smelled of watermelon shampoo. “I want to show you my drawing.”

“It’s too late for that, Nika-”

“I  _ know _ ,” he grumbled. “We had to draw our families at school today.”

Yuri hummed, yawning. “And what else?”

“Um,” he had to think for a while. “Maths. We did maths.”

“For the whole day?”

“No!” he giggled then gasped, covering his mouth when he remembered that he was supposed to be quite. A corner of Yuri’s mouth twitched upwards. “We had snack time, and Papa made me onigiri, and we got to outside today with Mrs. Kuznetsova and she read us a story.” Yuri yawned, causing him to stop his story. “Are you tired?” 

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie; his brain was still struggling to keep up and today had been, well, shit. He realised that he was pressing his palm to his stomach, and ripped it away, clenching his jaw. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Yuri poked his belly and he giggled again. “You,” he poked him again, “need to go,” another poke, “to bed.”

“I am in bed!” 

This child. He poked him again and warm pudgy fingers grabbed his finger. “Your  _ own  _ bed.”

“Don’t wanna,” he giggled. “I’m gonna stay up all night-”

“Nikita.” Viktor was suddenly in the doorway. Yellow light spilled in from the hallway. “What are you doing in here?” Nikita froze. Caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he didn’t know what to do. “Papa put you to bed two hours ago.”

“I wanted to see Yuri,” he mumbled. 

“Nikita.” He folded his hands across his chest, and Nikita perked up instantly. “You have until I count to three to get back to your room and into your bed.”

He scrambled from the bed, little feet pattering against the floor. Viktor waited until he heard a door down the hallway shut before shaking his head. “That boy.” He walked over to the bed, sitting down. “How’re you feeling, Yurochka?”

Yuri grumbled, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest.

“Tired.” 

Viktor sighed softly. “Well, we put aside some dinner for you, if you want to eat later.”

“Thanks.” 

There was short pause before Viktor continued. “You went to the doctor today.”

His stomach felt heavy. “Yeah.”

He leaned back on his palms. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. Nothing is incurable.”

Yuri grumbled. “Except cancer.”

Viktor’s head whipped towards him. He almost felt guilty. “Yurochka-”

“It’s not.” He wished it was. It would have been easier. “Didn’t Katsudon tell you?” He balled the sheet up in his palm and bit his lip. 

“I didn’t ask him. I want to hear it from you.”

Yuri held his breath until he couldn't anymore. “What do you think it is?”

Viktor was silent for a few more moments until he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Well, from your symptoms and this evening.” He scrubbed his hair back from his forehead. “I think you’re... pregnant.” 

Oh wow, so it was  _ that  _ obvious. Obvious to everyone but him, the fucking idiot. He swallowed, ignoring the tightness in his throat and his prickling eyes. “Yeah.”

Viktor didn’t normally shout, he barely ever raised his voice when he was angry, but that didn’t mean he was any less dangerous. However, Yuri didn’t expect him to spin around and pull him into a tight hug, crashing his head against his chest a mumbling soothing nonsense. 

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Yuri’s voice cracked again. 

“I… no.” He sighed. “I didn’t think this would happen so soon, but no, Yurochka, I’m not mad.” 

“Don’t tell Grandpa.” He let his tears soak into his shirt. 

 

“Hey,” Otabek’s voice was cheerful over the phone. He was the only person Yuri would accept unsolicited voice calls from, even if he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to talk to him right now. His stomach clenched and his chest tightened. Fuck, and he had already thrown up today. “Are you free tonight?”

Yuri held his breath, glad that Katsudon and the kids were still at work and school. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. “Yeah. I’m free every night.” 

“Oh, was just wondering since you haven’t been feeling too well and all. I just wanted to make sure. Or if Grandpa didn’t need you for anything-”

“Beka. You’re rambling.” He was nervous about something. Yuri clutched a throw pillow to his stomach. The queasiness wasn’t going away; he flopped onto his side, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Sorry.” He swallowed. “Well, I got back one of my assignments today, and I did a bit better than I thought I would.”

Yuri grinned despite himself. “How much better?”

“Uh… I got a ninety-seven-”

“Are you serious?” He shot back upright, swinging his feet to the ground as he recognised the tiny spark of happiness igniting in his chest in spite of everything else. “We’re celebrating! I’m coming over right now.”

Otabek chuckled softly, Yuri could picture him blushing. God, if only  _ this _ could last forever, if he didn’t have to tell him about the stupid, fucking baby. “It isn’t a big deal. But, yeah, I wanted you to come over for a drink or something.”

“I’m already on my way.”  Maybe if he forced his smile hard enough he would actually feel it. 

He looked at himself in the mirror in Katsudon’s bathroom and winced. His eyes were puffy, he was greasy, and for some reason was a few shades paler than normal. So, he basically looked dead. Otabek would know something was wrong instantly. But all of his makeup was at home, and there was no way in hell he was ready to face his grandpa yet. 

Okay, he might as well shower. That at least should help him feel less like shit. The nausea was a different story, though. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Otabek asked as soon as he opened the door. Yuri swallowed, wrapping an arm around his stomach. 

“Not feeling well.”

Otabek’s eyebrows widened and he stepped aside to let him in. “You didn’t have to force yourself to come over here.”

“It’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around Otabek’s waist, planting his face into his chest and inhaling deeply. His smell helped, faint spices and something earthy. He could fall asleep right now and would wake up happy. “You wanted to celebrate.” 

“Not if you're sick.” He pressed his lips to Yuri’s forehead. “I don’t… want. You shouldn’t have forced yourself.”

Yuri inhaled noisily. “I wanted to, okay?”

“Didn’t you go to the doctor yesterday?” 

Well, fuck. That had come quickly. He was barely even in the apartment. “Yeah…” He should have been used to his chest tightening this much by now and his stomach dropping and cold seeping into his entire body. He tugged at the hem of Otabek’s t-shirt; his nails grazed the waistband of his jeans. 

He prodded after Yuri didn’t continue. “And?”

Fuck. Yuri swallowed past the blockage in his throat. Just fuck. He couldn’t say anything right now. This was going to ruin them, and they had  _ just _ started dating. He  _ couldn’t _ . Otabek already had so many things on his shoulders, there was no way he could handle this mess as well. At least not now. Yuri knew he had to tell him, but maybe after he was done with exams. If he failed the semester because of him, then he honestly didn’t know what he would do. Otabek had cleaned up enough of his messes anyway. The least he could do was let him finish his semester in peace. God, he was going to vomit. 

“Yura?” 

“They don’t know yet. Something about more testing.” The lie flew easily form his mouth, and a little bit of him withered to dust. He actually felt it. Just let him finish his semester in peace, let him pass his exams. Then when summer comes… well he’d deal with it then. At least they had three more weeks they could enjoy together. 

Otabek sighed, hugging him tightly. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to his forehead again. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” 

Yuri screwed his eyes shut. He was the actual worst. His mother should have gotten that abortion. 

“Hey,” Otabek hooked a finger under his chin, gently forcing him to look up. His eyes were so soft and fucking caring, that the rest of him turned to dust as well. His vision blurred. “Hey,” Otabek said again, softer, with more urgency. “It’ll be okay.” 

Yuri bit his lip. It wasn’t; he was going to lose him in three weeks. But Otabek was trying his best right now, and they were supposed to be celebrating him nearly getting perfect marks on his assignment. The least he could do was not fucking make everything about himself. He nodded, taking a deep breath, bringing his hand up to curl his fingers around Otabek’s wrist. “So,” he swallowed. “What assignment was it?”

Otabek blinked, but then a light blush spread across his cheeks. “Oh, uh, it was from a few months ago. The professor was late in giving it back.”

“Can I hear it?”

“Uh,”

Yuri exhaled harshly, feigning annoyance and roughly wiping his face. “Babe. You are an amazing musician; I don’t get why you’re so scared about sharing your music. I mean everything you put up on YouTube gets over 500,000 views - yes, I’ve kept track! And you barely show your face so I know It’s not just because you’re hot.”

“Yura-”

“Oh stop it. You are. You know you are.” 

His was biting his bottom lip, his arms were loose around his waist, and his face was red. “No, this one was an essay."

“Boring,” he sang, twisting away from his hold and kicking off his shoes. “So, how are we celebrating?” 

Otabek offered a small smile, coming up behind him and guiding him to the kitchen with a hand on the small of his back. There was a bottle of red wine on the the breakfast bar, and a glazed tort with tiny pink, icing flowers. 

“You made a cake?” Yuri raised an eyebrow. 

“Yelena, made a cake,” he corrected. “She and my mom came by earlier.”

“Is that why everything looks so clean?”

He rolled his eyes. 

“Did you tell them about your ninety-seven?”

“Uh…” So no. Yuri bit the inside of his cheek. “They’ll see my grades at the end of the semester. They know I’m doing well anyway.” 

He slipped onto one of the stools in front of the bar, and propped his elbows on the cool marble. “So your sister just turned up with a cake?” 

“I think it was he friend’s birthday or something and she made too much batter.”

“How convenient.”

“She asked about you by the way.”

“Me?” 

Otabek sat down next to him, pulling the bottle of wine and two glasses over to them. “Yes, I told her and Nasiv you were back.”

“Do they know why?” 

He shook his head, uncorking the bottle. Unsurprising. He held out a glass to Yuri, and he wound his fingers around the stem before hesitating. He eventually slid the glass away, shaking his head. 

Otabek raised an eyebrow before sighing heavily. “You’ll never know if you like it or not if you don’t try any.”

“All wine literally tastes the same to me.” 

“Okay, so what are you drinking?” 

“Tea?”

He winced, ducking his head. “Ginger?” 

“Yeah.” 

He managed a slice of cake, scraping off all the icing and the jam between the layers. Otabek watched him, rolling his eyes in exasperation when he slid his scrapings onto his plate. Lilia would probably pop out of the sink drain if he had eaten all that sugar. 

“So I guess, it’s safe to say that you don’t want to go out anywhere tonight?” Otabek asked, tilting his head to the side. 

Yuri’s shoulders slumped. “God, if you had asked literally any other night…”

He shrugged. “Was just thinking we could walk around the park before it got too dark.”

It honestly did sound appealing, and it wouldn’t get dark until like nine, but his legs felt like lead, and there was this bone-deep exhaustion that he had no idea where the fuck came from - well actually, he knew where it came from. He ground his teeth together. Fuck it. 

“Yeah, actually. Let’s do that.” 

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

Yuri jumped off the bar stool. “I thought you wanted to go to a bar or something.”

Otabek’s nose wrinkled at the suggestion. Yuri reached over to poke it. “When have I ever suggested we go to a  _ bar _ ?” 

Yuri giggled. “I don’t know, maybe you’re getting adventurous in your old age.”

He rolled his eyes. 

It was warm enough that neither of them needed to bring a jacket. Yuri kicked at a small pebble as they walked down a pathway, surrounded on either side by short, green grass and neatly pruned trees. He hooked his arm around Otabek’s elbow, leaning against his side as they walked. There were a few kids running around a brightly coloured playground, with their parents watching from a bench. He watched as a little girl with blond pigtails squeal as she went down the slide. He and Otabek had gone to the playground everyday, without fail, after school, even when Otabek’s parents had moved him to a different school. Yuri snickered at a memory, turning to Otabek with a small smile. 

“Hey.” He nudged Otabek’s side. “Remember that time we got bored of the playground near Grandpa’s and went on an adventure to find a more exciting one?”

Otabek scoffed. “I remember Grandpa yelling at us for nearly fifteen minutes straight when he found us.” 

“He was overreacting; we hadn’t even gone that far.”

“You were seven, I was nine; we walked four blocks, Yura. We had been gone for three hours.” 

“Overreacting. We brought snacks and water and everything; we were prepared.” 

“We could have been kidnapped.”

“Oh my God, I don’t remember you being so against it back then.” 

“I was  _ nine _ , and it was your idea.”

Yuri laughed loudly. “Of course it was.” 

Otabek eyed the playground as well. The kids were complaining loudly as their parents began to round them up to leave. “It’ll be free in a while if you want to…” he shrugged, grinning. 

Yuri snorted. “I would pay money to see you go down that slide.” 

Otabek raised an eyebrow at him and frowned. “No.” 

“Come on!” He giggled, tugging him in the direction of the entrance. 

“Yura…” He was already blushing. 

He dragged him to the swings and he grudgingly sat down, watching as the parents finally dragged their kids away. The park was thrown into a sudden silence and Yuri looked up at the sky as he lazily pushed himself back and forth. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but it was this weird colour of the sun wanting to set, but summer telling it not yet. He took a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut and pushed himself higher. 

“Are you trying to go all the way around again?” Otabek deadpanned, but Yuri knew there was a playful glint in his eyes.

He scoffed, heels sending gravel flying as he stopped his swing. “Shut up. That was once - _when I was like ten_.”

“Once enough for you to nearly break your arm.” 

He hadn’t cried, but Katsudon had told him that he couldn’t go to dance lessons if he had a broken arm. So, he hadn’t tried again. 

“Shut up.” He tightened his hands around the chains, but suddenly even that motion was hard to do. Just the thought of the walk back to Otabek’s apartment seemed impossible now. Sitting down had been a mistake; he wasn’t sure if he could get back up again. He hung his head, letting his hair cover his face. The light, airy feeling from the walk have evaporated, just like that and his eyes started to prickle. This was fucking bullshit. He bit his lip until it hurt. 

“Yura?” Otabek asked softly, his sneakers scraping against the gravel. “Do you want to go back?” He shook his head, his throat too tight to speak. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?” 

“Just tired,” his voice was trembling. 

“We can go back.”

Yuri shook his head. 

“Yura, you don’t have to force yourself if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, I’m fine.” 

Otabek stood up. “Let’s head back anyway.”

Yuri swallowed, well now the evening was ruined. He stood up as well, legs feeling like he had ankle weights. Otabek pulled him into a hug, and he nearly collapsed into him, knees knocking together. 

“And you give  _ me _ hell for not taking it easy, when I’ve seen your schedule.” Yuri had to fight to keep his eyes open, Otabek’s scent wasn’t doing anything to help. “You’re allowed to take it easy, you know, you’re allowed to feel tired.” 

Yuri sighed, stepping closer, loosely wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning against his chest. That wasn’t it, that wasn’t it at all. And if Otabek probably knew the reason why, he wouldn’t be so forgiving either. 

He was quiet on the way back. Otabek didn’t mind, more than happy to walk in silence, but held his hand tightly. When Yuri tumbled into bed, he curled around him, kissing down the back of his neck. Yuri hummed, rolling over and tucking himself under his chin. 

“Grandpa sent me a picture of us the other day.” His voice was a deep rumble in his chest, almost soothing in a lazy sort of way. “We were sleeping together exactly like this.” Yuri snorted softly, wiggling an arm between Otabek’s ribs and bicep. “You were in your ballerina pyjamas.” 

“Those were the best pyjamas,” he mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut. He pressed his nose to the hollow at the base of Otabek’s throat. He smelt so good; every muscle in his body loosened like his smell was giving him a hot oil massage. “Beka?” 

“Hmm?” 

The sleep was talking. “We haven’t been, like, officially dating for long, but it feels like forever.” 

Otabek’s gentle exhale ruffled Yuri’s hair. “We’ve known each other for forever.” He felt lips against his forehead. 

“I think I loved you for forever too.”

He didn’t remember hearing him answer, but he fell asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around him and his lips pressed to his forehead. That was answer enough. 

 

It was nearly noon when Yuri’s phone rang from somewhere tangled in the sheets. He rolled over onto his side, waiting for the nausea, which was almost a daily thing now, but it didn’t come this time. Instead he felt groggy, like he hadn’t just slept for twelve hours. He sat up blinking blearily, vaguely remembering Otabek getting up for class and kissing him goodbye. God, he’s been so tired last night. He phone stopping ringing as he searched for it, but started back a minute later. Okay, someone really really needed to talk to him. 

Dedulya. Oh fuck. Yuri hit the answer button his heart leaping into his mouth. “Deda, what happened-“

“Yuri Plisetsky, get your little ass home this instant,” his grandpa yelled, silencing him instantly. 

He swallowed as his stomach tightened around a sharp knife. He was sure he remember to text him that he was staying with Otabek that night. “I… uh… Is something wrong?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, boy. Your doctor called.” If he hadn’t already been in bed, he would have fallen over. He still felt dizzy, having to steady himself with a hand on the mattress. Why had the doctor called? Had he told him everything? Oh God.  _ Now  _ he was going to vomit. 

“I” he swallowed, pressing his palm to his stomach, nails catching in his shirt. “Why did they call?”

Grandpa drew in a sharp breath that rattled through the speakers. “They would like you to book a follow up appointment.” He paused and Yuri felt sweat gathering under his arms and at the small of his back. He was seriously going to vomit right now. He pushed against his stomach. “You need to schedule your first prenatal appointment soon,  _ or _ ,” he spat. “Or they’ll refer you an abortion clinic.” 

Yuri felt the world shaking. Did doctors normally follow up like this? Or had Katsudon said something to them? He swallowed, but even his throat was shaking. 

“I thought I raised you to be smart and responsible!” He had gone back to shouting. “You have a career, Yuri, your whole life in front of you and you throw it all away for what? To feel good for what ten minutes? For an orgasm? Where is your brain? Didn’t you think of the consequences, of what could happen to you? Do you even know who the father is? Or are you exactly like your mother?”

That was a slap across the face if anything. He was right. He was right about everything. He’d fucked up. Fucked up his entire life and probably everyone else’s, too. Hot tears ran freely down his face and he tired to hold his breath to keep from sniffling into the phone. 

“Why didn’t you use a condom or-“

“I’m on birth control! It failed! Do you really think I would just go around sleeping with people and-“

“Why did it fail?”

“I don’t know!” He squeezed his stomach. Nails biting into his skin. 

His grandpa sighed as if he was carrying the world. And in a sense he was, having to deal with this same shit twice now. “Is it Otabek’s?” 

Yuri hiccuped, using his shoulder to wipe his face. 

“Yuri, is it-”

“You don’t even care!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the mattress. “You just want to yell at me, and what yell at Beka too? I know I fucked, up alright. I disappointed you, and Viktor and Katsudon, and Beka, and everyone!”

He sighed heavily. “Come home right now.”

“Why? So you can yell at me more? Well, sorry, I’m a fuck up exactly like my mother. So what the hell can you do about it?” He was shaking, entire body heaving as he tried to hold back sobs. 

“Yuri, come home-”

He hung up on him, throwing his phone across the room. It hit the wall and landed on the ground with a sickening crack. Yuri fell sideways, curling into a ball and tugging the sheets over his head. He couldn’t go home. He couldn't go home and face the disappointment in his Grandpa’s eyes, not after all he’d done to make sure that he’d grown up well after all the shit with his mom. He didn’t deserve this too. Tears tickled as they ran sideways across his face. He knew what the neighbours had said about his family, how they had looked at him and his Grandpa when they went to the grocery store or movies. With pity, with contempt, like Grandpa was scum and Yuri shouldn't have been there at all. 

And now it would happen all over again. 

No, he  _ shouldn’t  _ be here. He couldn’t let his grandpa go through that again; he couldn’t drag Otabek into this either. Yuri sat up, roughly wiping his face and went to pick up his phone. It still turned on, and the screen hadn’t cracked. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he found the the soonest and cheapest flight back to Saint Petersburg. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **February 16th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Discussions about abortion

 

The studio was dark when he entered. Of course it would be, it was way past closing time, and he had waved at the security guard on his way in. He didn’t bother switching on the lights and he didn’t need music either. The waxed floor was smooth against his bare feet and it was warm enough after a few minutes' warm-up that he shed his hoodie, despite the cool breeze blowing in from the open window. For as long as he had been alive, dancing had been the only way he could just clear his head, just forget about everything: the next maths test he was going to fail, his shitty classmates, and his mom. Grandpa had tried signing him up for all kinds of sports when he couldn’t sit still in class, and they had worked for a while, but Yuri wasn’t really a team player. Then Viktor had brought him to his boyfriend’s ballet recital one afternoon, and Yuri had known from then that dancing was for him. He tried everything from ballet to hip hop, to ballroom and acro, and he’d been so good at it that the little studio in Moscow had sent him to  _ Lilia Baranovskaya  _ – basically the mother of dance – and she’d offered him a scholarship to come to Saint Petersburg with the option of joining her company once he graduated high school.

None of that was going to happen now.

Yuri stumbled, nearly crashing to the floor, but caught himself on the barre with his shoulder. Fuck. He couldn’t even dance now. He ground his teeth together, tasting salt. When the fuck had he even started to cry? He dragged his hand across his face, wiping away hot tears. Growling, he started the routine over. The music was loud in his head, and he knew all he steps by heart. The senior troupe was going to win nationals and most of them would be signed onto big production houses or studios before the end of the year, if they didn’t choose to move onto Lilia’s professional group. He had wanted to continue dancing in music videos – there was always a demand for backup dancers or even body doubles for singers or actors. It would have been perfect; and one day he could have been dancing in one of Otabek’s videos.

But not anymore. Not any-fucking-more. 

The streetlight stretched blurry shadows across the room. His movements were long and fluid, flashes of dark across the yellow light. He stomped his foot once, before springing into a modified pirouette then rolled  his shoulders and hips, rocking onto the balls of his feet. His footsteps were heavy against the floor, echoing in the heavy silence. He ignored the sweat dripping down his back, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been dancing for, or how many times he’d been through the routine, but he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to go back to reality where he had fucked up so badly that his Grandfather hated him. He didn’t want to go back to a world where Otabek might leave him, and everyone was disappointed in him.  He took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping his nose with his elbow. God, he could barely breathe; the air kept on catching in his throat, and his nose was clogged. He paused to sniffle, dragging his hand down his face, then spun in a slow circle, flinging his arms out wide and throwing his foot out and turning to the beat in his head.

“What are you doing here?” He spun to see a tall, slender shadow glaring at him from the doorway. “You’re supposed to be in Moscow.”

Yuri wiped his face with his forearm, biting his bottom lip to keep any more tears from falling.

“What’s wrong?”  Lila stepped into the faint light from the window. “What happened?”

Yuri felt his shoulders crumble. “I’m leaving the troupe.”

“What?”

“I can’t dance anymore.”

There were a few beats of silence before Lilia repeated herself, softer. “What happened?”

He collapsed against the wall, narrowly avoiding smashing into the mirror again and covered his face with his palm. “I… I’m…” he couldn't bring himself to say anything. 

“Yuri?” 

Fuck. his shoulders were shaking now and he wrapped his arms around his stomach. “I can’t do it anymore.” 

Lilia sighed softly, gliding over to him and putting one of her arms around his shoulders before guiding him from the room. His ankle was throbbing now; fire traveled up his leg every time he stepped on it. 

“I’m sure your leg isn’t thanking you right now,” she snipped, instantly picking up on his limp as they headed in the direction of her office. “That was foolish of you. You know the doctor said that you were to rest it for at least six weeks, and only  _ then _ were you supposed to start with physio. Or do you never want to dance again?” Yuri hiccuped wiping at his face again. “Do you think you can wait fifteen minutes before we go home?” 

“Home?”

Lilia raised an eyebrow, gently pushing him into a chair across from her desk. “I’m not sending you back to that apartment when you’re like this. You’ll spend the night in my guest room.” 

She gave him an ice pack for his ankle when they got to her condominium, and a pair of pyjamas to change into after a warm bath. He wasn’t even surprised to see Yakov waiting for him when he came back out into the living room. LIlia pushed a mug of hot tea into his hands and sat down next to Yakov on the love seat, across from him and the couch.  The three of them sat in silence for a while; the only noise was the ticking of the ornate grandfather clock in the corner. 

Yuri stared into his mug, watching the steam rise from the almost black liquid. Lilia didn’t drink milk and she barely ate sugar. He took a small sip, trying not to wince at the bitterness. 

“So, what’s this about you quitting?” Yakov asked gruffly, his hand tight on the edge of the armrest. 

Yuri bit his lip as his stomach started to churn, making the little bit of tea he had drank feel like molten lava. “I can’t dance anymore.”

Yakov drew in a sharp breath, preparing his lungs to shout. “Why not-”        

“You do realise your injury is only a temporary thing.” Lilia cut him off, after taking a sip from her own cup of tea. “As long as we follow the plans from the doctor and your physiotherapist you’ll be back with us in no time.”

Yakov nodded in agreement. “We’ve been through this already, Yurochka. It is essential for you to take time off.”

Yuri shook his head, setting his cup down on the coffee table so he could wrap his arms around his stomach. How was he even supposed to say this? Just blurt it out and disappoint two more people?

“Did something happen with your grandpa?” Lilia asked.

Apart from him hating him now? He bit his lip, screwing his eyes shut. “No, not really.”

“Your mother then? Did she do something?”

Yuri ground his teeth together. “No,” he spat. She hadn’t been in his life for ages; he and he was never going to let her back in.

She exhaled harshly. “We’re trying to help you, Yurochka. We can’t, if we don’t know what’s ’s wrong. Now, please tell us, what could possibly have gone so badly that my star dancer thinks he has to quit.”

Fuck. The tears came hard and fast and he hunched over himself, nearly touching his forehead to his knees. His life was already ruined, nothing else could go wrong. Plus, these two could never hate him as much as his grandpa did now. “I’m pregnant,” it came out as a hiccupping sob.

“What did you say?” Yakov asked softly, his voice almost dangerous. 

Yuri banged his fist against his thigh, straightening enough to glare at them. “I’m pregnant!” He hadn’t meant to yell, but it tore from his throat and he collapsed back against his lap.

“How can you be pregnant? You’re still   _ seventeen _ !” Yakov yelled. 

“I know! Fuck, you don’t need to remind me! I didn’t do it on purpose!” He screwed his eyes shut after the explosion, sinking into himself and sniffling. Everything was going so, unbelievably wrong. 

There was a short pause, where Yuri felt the couch moving beneath him and he hoped that it would open and swallow him up. God, he had wished every night since the fucking doctor’s appointment that he would wake up and this would have all been a dream.

The cushion next to him sank slightly and he Lilia’s scent of roses and black tea filled his nose. Her hand was heavy against his shoulder. “There will always be a place for you at my company, Yurochka. This doesn’t change it.”

Yuri swallowed, looking up at her even though his vision was blurry enough that he couldn’t see anything. “But-”

“People get pregnant every day; you’re not special. Sit up.” She waited for him to straighten his spine before she continued. “Talent like yours doesn’t come by every day, and the amount of work I’ve seen you put in is admirable. Obstacles are a part of life, and this is a very big one, but if you think that Yakov and I will let you go just like that then you have another thing coming.” Yuri sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. Lilia scowled, reaching past him for a box of tissues on the side table. “So, what is your plan? Do you have one yet?”

“How far along are you?” Yakov asked, edging closer to them.

Yuri eyed him wearily, and swallowed again. “Around six weeks.” He paused, but yeah. The doctor had said he’d been around five at the appointment. He didn’t know how that was possible; he hadn’t even been in Moscow for five weeks. 

“Are you planning on keeping it?” Lilia asked.

“I... I don’t know.”

“If you are, will the father be involved?”

A bolt of lightning ran down his spine. “I don’t know.”

Yakov pinched the bridge of his nose, the noise from his grinding his teeth was loud. “Who is this asshole?”

Yuri blinked away a fresh set of tiny tears. “My boyfriend. I haven’t told him yet.”

Yuri cowered from Yakov’s death glare. He knew it wasn’t for him, and made a mental note never to let him meet Otabek. 

“So who knows?” Lilia asked.

“My cousin and his husband, and my grandpa.”

“You didn’t tell Mila?”

He shook his head.

Lilia sat back, crossing her legs at the knee. “You can stay here as long as you need to. But you need to make a decision about this soon.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, feeling as if Lilia had popped his stomach with a needle. “I was going to tell Bek – the father after his exams finished, but, uh...”

“Well, let us know when you do,” Yakov said. “We’ll need to come up with different PR plans based on what you chose to do with the baby.” Yuri nodded. “Don’t worry, Yurochka. I know what they say in the movies or what old gossips like to do, but you have your whole life in front of you still.”

Yeah, his mother thought so too.

“Have you eaten anything for the day,” Lilia asked, standing. “No?” She sighed heavily. “Yakov can you...” 

He nodded, standing as well. “Regular orders?” 

She nodded then turned back to Yuri.  “And let your grandpa know you’re here; he’s been very persistent with his calls.”

His eyes widened, but of course Grandpa would call Lilia. His phone had been off for the past few days and he had barely even spoken to Mila apart from telling her hi when he got back and the occasional grunt in the morning if he got up before she left for the studio. He hadn’t really done anything actually. He’d lost track of the days, only getting up when the nausea forced him from the bed to the bathroom; he’d been spending a lot of time in the bathroom. 

Later, after he’d hobbled into Lilia’s guest room, he dug out his phone from his bag and held the power button down until his face was bathed in white light. He had to wait a bit for it to boot up fully, but when it did the notifications came rolling in like a waterfall. Grandpa, Viktor and Katsudon, Otabek. Biting his lip, he set the phone down on his nightstand and slipped under the embossed, floral comforter. He hesitated in reaching out for his phone, glaring at the chipped, neon green polish on his nails. The cuticles were growing out; they looked gross. He curled his fingers into a loose fist, pulling his hand away from his phone. He ended up staring at the  ceiling, holding his stomach and pressing  against it as it cramped. It was only the buzzing from a new message that had him rolling over to check it. 

Beka:   
Yura, please answer. I’m really worried. 

Instant guilt gnawed at his stomach as well and he tapped open the chat. 

Beka:   
Are you spending the night again?    
Guess not.    
Night, babe.

He scrolled down the chat, clenching his jaw, stomach sinking as Otabek began asking if he was mad at him. Then Yuri could tell the moment panic had hit.

Beka:   
Hey, Grandpa just called to ask me where you were. Yuri what’s going on?    
Where are you?   
Oh God, please answer   
Yura please, where are you? 

Yuri’s eyes stung as he read to the end. Yeah, he was an actual piece of shit. The last time he had made Otabek worry this much was when he was twelve; he’d scared him enough to have a panic attack, and he had told himself that he never wanted that to happen again. He couldn’t even remember what they had been fighting about, just that he had run away and hid afterwards. He had Otabek looking for him for nearly an hour, He listened to him running around and calling for him with a sort of morbid satisfaction, but then it had quickly turned into frantic cries and Grandpa had started shouting, too. When he had come out of hiding he was sure that Grandpa was going to bend him over his knee - he did later, but he hadn’t been expecting Otabek to be red-faced with tear tracks down his cheeks, gasping for breath and trembling. Grandpa had ignored him until he had helped Otabek to calm down and made sure he was home safely. All hell had broken loose after then. He remembered feeling like absolute shit that day too. 

His fingers were shaking as he typed out a reply. At least Lilia had found out from Mila where he was and had told Grandpa, then he’d passed it along to Otabek, but reading his messages still hit him in the stomach. 

Me:   
Hey

His phone rang a split second later. He took a deep breath before plucking up the courage to answer. What could he even say?

“Yura? Oh my God, are you okay?” 

Yuri swallowed, willing his voice not to shake. It was too much to ask for, it seemed. “Hi, B-beka. Yeah, I’m fine, I just needed… I’m in Saint Petersburg.” 

There was a short pause before he sighed. “Okay, thank god. I thought you’d been murdered or kidnapped. Why weren’t you answering your phone? I was worried sick. We all were.”

Yuri swallowed. “I… I just needed some time.” 

There was another pause. “You could have sent a text.” 

“Yeah. I know… I… I’m sorry.” His voice broke, and he curled into a tight ball on his side. 

“Yura…” Otabek’s breath rasped across the speaker. “What’s going on?” 

It was like something actually broke in his chest. The next breath he drew in came with loud sobs.

“Yura?”

Yuri scrubbed at his face with his free hand, but the harder he wiped, the more tears came.

“Yura? Hey, it’s okay,” Otabek murmured. “It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

He hiccupped, his shoulders shook and his stomach clenched and cramped. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry so bad, I didn’t think… I didn’t think-”

Otabek didn’t even miss a beat. “Hey, Yura, it’s okay. I forgive you, you know I’ll always forgive you.”

He shouldn’t. “No, you're mad, and Grandpa’s mad, and Viktor and Katsudon-”

“I’m not mad at you, baby. Shhh, we were just worried. We all love you so much, Yura.”

“I didn’t want to stress you out.”

“It’s okay. I’m not... you're safe, and that’s all that matters. I’m not worrying anymore.”

Yuri bit his lip, but he still sniffled, his breath catching in his throat. Anymore. God, Otabek must have been beside himself, he knew how he was when he got when he worried. He probably hadn’t slept or eaten or anything. Fuck, and this was the exact thing he was trying to avoid. When was he going to stop fucking up things? “I’m sorry…” He wasn’t even sure if that had been loud enough for Otabek to hear. 

“Look, Yura,” he went on. “I know there’s something going on that you’re not ready to talk about yet. And if you needed to go to Saint Petersburg to figure some stuff out then okay. Just...” he paused to take a breath. “Just... Okay.” He sighed. “I texted Grandpa that you called me, he’s been really worried, Yura, I don’t think I’ve ever,” he cut himself off again. “Just... Yura, just please, don’t ever disappear like that again.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry.” God, he was an actual piece of shit. He balled the comforter in his hand.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed again. “Call Grandpa, I... uh, I need to get back to studying.”

Shit. “Yeah.”

There was a short pause where Yuri’s stomach cramped so hard he thought he’d been stabbed.

“And Yura, I... Iloveyou, rememberthat, please.”

Yuri’s throat closed up instantly. “I... I love you, too.” 

Yeah, then he should fucking act like it.

 

“Do you really think I can just come back after this?” Yuri asked as Lilia had helped him out of the bathroom when she had found him hunched over the toilet. The nausea – the morning sickness – felt like it was getting worse.

Lilia raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking anything for this?” He shook his head. “I’ll ask around. You’ll lose far too much weight.” He hadn’t been able to eat too much at dinner either, just some of the boiled vegetable side dish. “And yes, you’ll be back in no time at all. I’ve seen countless dancers continue on after having children. Your situation is a little more precarious, socially and maybe legally depending on your choice, but you will be back regardless.”

Yuri held his breath for a moment, looking down his body at his stomach. Depending on his choice. He slowly brought his hand to his stomach, shivering as he touched it. Lilia’s hand on his shoulder made him jump. She squeezed it before she stood up and headed to the kitchen. Yuri watched her back before she disappeared around the wall, then slumped against the couch. Honestly, he appreciated her matter-of-fact way of dealing with things. When he had first met her, her strict personality and seeming lack of emotion had made him nervous. But now, and especially with this situation, it was calming. And suddenly the world didn’t feel like it was ending so quickly, like maybe he still had a bit of control.

He called his grandpa once Lilia had left for the studio. Curled up on the couch, with a steaming mug of tea to his side and a plate of sliced cucumber and some crackers, he tapped his fingernail against his darkened and locked screen. Lilia had made him promise to call if anything went wrong, or if he felt sick again, and he had pretended that he hadn’t seen her put up a list of emergency numbers on the fridge. He should have called Grandpa last night, but after talking to Otabek, he had literally dropped asleep. There hadn’t been any more missed calls from him when he woke up. Viktor and Katsudon had both tried three times. He should probably call them, too, but Grandpa came first, even if he was dreading the talk after how their last one had ended.

He picked up a slice of cucumber, digging his nail into the centre, before taking a small bite. Lilia had sprinkled them with pink Himalayan salt or some bullshit like that. What was he even supposed to say to Grandpa when he called? What if he didn't want to talk to him, or just wanted him to disappear like his mother? Yuri shook his head, reaching for his tea next. No, he’d been trying to call him all this time; he wanted to talk to him. Maybe to yell at him more, but he deserved it. He had fucked up big time. Holding his breath as his stomach clenched around his breakfast, he unlocked his phone. He didn’t know that pressing a button would have ever taken so much strength.

“Yuri-”

“Deda,” he began softly, praying that his voice wouldn’t break. “I’m sorry-”

“No, I’m sorry,” he sighed heavily. “You left because of what I said and you could have gotten hurt, or killed, or worse.” Yuri gulped. “I shouldn’t have said those things; you're a smart and beautiful boy, and... mistakes happen to everyone. I... just you are not your mother, you're nothing like her. I’m sorry.”

Yuri swallowed, pulling his knees to his chest. “I never wanted to put you through this again.”

“I know it wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t the ideal situation with your mother, but I got you out of it, so maybe this will be better.”

Something cold dripped down his spine. He bit the inside of his cheek, screwing his eyes shut. “I... I don’t know if I’m keeping it.” There was an awkward pause before Yuri winced and continued. “I mean, I have to talk to Beka, but I...” he swallowed. “An abortion might be the better choice.” He hummed low, and Yuri could picture his face. God, he on a roll with the disappointment; but his mouth kept on moving. “I know how you and Babulya feel about that, but maybe my mother hated me so much because she was forced-”

“It’s your choice.” His voice was clipped.

Yuri winced again; he shouldn’t have said it like that. “Deda, please-”

He drew in a loud breath, which sounded almost painful. “Please what? You decided to act like an adult and get yourself pregnant then you can make an adult choice what to do about it.”

Yuri felt himself deflate and it was suddenly hard to hold his phone up, hard to sit upright, or even keep his eyes open. But a tight, wiry ball of pure rage was forming in his stomach. He ground his teeth, breathing through his nose. “Okay, fine. But I can also choose if I want you to be involved or not.” Grandpa stuttered for a moment, but Yuri was already seeing red. “If you don’t want to deal with all this, then I can just leave; you don’t have to see me or hear from me ever-”

“ _ You know I would never want that _ !” Yuri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected him to shout. “Don’t you even suggest that I would want you gone!”

He exhaled forcefully, glaring at his breakfast. “Then if I decide to have an abortion-”

“I won’t stop you.”

“But you won’t be happy about it.”

“I... Yuri.” He sighed again. “It won’t sit right with me, but I... your happiness means more.”

Yuri’s breath hitched; the anger evaporated just like that. “Deda...”

“We... have a lot to talk about when you come home.”

Yuri sighed softly, curling his fingers around the edge of a throw pillow. “My mother?”

“Yes, and a few other things. With Beka too.”

“...Yeah.”

“Do know when you’re coming home?”

“I, uh, I have to sort some stuff out with Lilia and Yakov.”

“Okay, well take as long as you need, Yurochka.”

He sounded sad.

 

Yuri thought that wearing leggings would have been a good idea rather than spending the whole day in sweatpants. Except he was fucking bloated. The morning sickness felt like it was getting worse; sometimes the nausea kept him in bed and had Lilia hovering over him like a ruffled hen. She had read somewhere that frequent, small meals would help, and that an empty stomach would only make it worse, so she shoved healthy snacks into his hands at every opportunity she could and glared at him until he ate them. He suddenly couldn’t stand anything with garlic or tomato sauce, and he didn’t miss the pursed lips when she had sent Yakov home with a tub of roasted-garlic flavoured hummus. He had felt bad about that for nearly an entire week.

But he was bloated; and he never bloated. Glaring at his stomach in the mirror, he pressed a palm to it, pushing in. He was at eight weeks now, and he had no clue what that meant expect he was still nauseated and exhausted all the time. Basically everything was a shitshow. He turned sideways and sucked in his stomach, it went back to being flat – like how it was supposed to be, but the moment he released it back to looking swollen. Fuck.

He took out his phone, holding it up for a high-angle selfie, but he could still see that his stomach wasn’t flat. Fuck again. His Snapchat and Instagram had been suffering these past few weeks. He didn’t feel like posting shit and he looked like shit. He locked his phone, squeezing his fingers around the sides. And he was only going to get fatter. Great.

Well, it was going to be another sweatpants day, not like he was going anywhere anyway. Definitely not with him having to pee every five seconds, or vomit if he fucking smelled something. He ripped off his leggings and picked up his sweatpants from the floor, but he dove back into bed without putting them on. He pulled the covers up to his chin, rolling onto his side as he scrolled through his Instagram feed. People dancing, makeup, parties, nail art, the troupe was learning new choreography for the next competition. He sighed hesitating to like the video, but doubled tapped and quickly scrolled before he saw the heart turn pink. He should have been there. Fuck. He locked his phone when he felt his eyes prickle, but as soon as the screen when dark it began to ring. Otabek. He wiped his face and cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“Hey, just about to head out for one of my exams.”

Oh shit, he should have been the one to call. “Yuck. Good luck.”

“Thanks. So, what’s up with you today?”

Yuri hesitated, slowly kicking his bare legs along the mattress. “Uh, nothing.”

Otabek hummed. “Please tell me you're not still in bed.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yura, it’s almost  _ noon _ .”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well it’s not like I have anything to do.”

“Ankle still hurting?”

“Yeah. It’s a bitch; I can’t even go jogging.”

“Well, you’ll start phiso soon, right?”

“Yeah, I... uh. I’m actually coming home next week. Lilia and Yakov want me to take a little more time off.” He bit his lip, curling around himself a little bit tighter.

“Oh, that’s good, I guess. We’ll get summer together.”

“Yeah.” That should have been more exciting.

“I got the bike fixed, by the way. We can probably do a few day trips-”

“Fuck yes!” He shot upright, a grin fighting its way onto his face.

He chuckled. “We’ll have to pick a few places and-” he cut himself off with a rough breath. “I, uh, need to get going, Yura.”

For some reason his stomach sank. “Yeah, okay. Call me when you’re done?”

“Of course. If I don’t, assume that the exam killed me-”

“Oh, shut up. You’ll ace it. I know you will.”

“We’ll see.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled softly. “Bye, Yura. Love you.”

He always said it first. “Love you too.”

Yuri fell back to his pillow with all the energy sapped from his entire body. But, he felt almost giddy and he knew he was smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **March 2nd** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ahead of schedule and didn't see the point in waiting until friday. So here, early chapter :)  
>   
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
> Chapter Warnings:  
> -Sexual content  
> \- Mention of abortion  
> \- Mention of child abuse

Otabek saw Yuri before Yuri saw him. Groggy from the flight and, well, fucking growing a baby inside of him, he wondered around the arrivals area in a sort of daze before a black motorcycle pulled up beside him and the engine revved so loudly Yuri jumped and screamed.

“Beka, you ass!” he yelled.

Otabek grinned as he cut the engine and kicked down the foot stand. “Didn’t you hear me?” He asked, pulling off his helmet and hooking it on one of the handlebars. He pulled Yuri into a tight hug, tucking him under his chin. Yuri breathed in deeply, his nose against his neck, and he felt the tension he’d been carrying all throughout the flight disappear. He smelled so fucking good, warm, spicy, with hints of leather and soap. He leaned further into him, winding his arms around his waist and tugging at the hem of his leather jacket. His knees felt like jelly.

“Hey, Yura, don’t fall asleep on me.” He squeezed him gently before pulling away.

Yuri hummed, taking one last deep breath and shaking his head. He looked up at Otabek, who was fighting off a smile. “What?”

He bit his lip. “Nothing. Just happy you're back.”

Yuri’s cheeks heated, and he looked away. He sighed softly, before stretching up and pecking him on the lips. Otabek startled slightly, but kissed him back, short and sweet, before pulling away.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much? Don’t you have an exam today?”

Otabek raised an eyebrow, pausing in the middle of fishing out Yuri’s cat-eared helmet from under the seat. “It’s Saturday, babe. And my last exam was on Thursday.” He should have known that. “And I’m here now; it’s a bit too late to be asking that.”

Yuri huffed, fastening his helmet, and, after making sure his bag was secure on his back, settled on the bike behind Otabek. Otabek stroked his hands, clasped at his stomach.

“Are we going to my place or Grandpa’s?”

“Yours.”

He could get to Grandpa tomorrow; he was way too tired to even think about all they had to say to each other. Otabek squeezed his hand before starting the engine. Yuri’s stomach rolled with the vibrations from the bike, as he pressed the side of his face against Otabek’s shoulder; his cheek smushed uncomfortably against the inside of the helmet. The mid-afternoon sun was beating down on them, but the wind that billowed past him and snuck under his denim jacket was like ice. He couldn’t stop himself from trembling and hoped that Otabek couldn’t feel it. Grandpa wasn’t the only person he had to talk to.

 

Yuri couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up his throat as Otabek kissed across his cheeks. They were swaying as they stood in the entryway of his apartment, only far enough inside for the door the swing shut. Yuri dug his hands into Otabek’s back pockets as Otabek threaded his fingers through his hair. He finally found Yuri’s mouth after kissing almost everywhere else on his face. And Yuri breathed in deeply through his nose as their mouths joined. Eyes fluttering shut, Yuri let himself get lost. Even after what he had done, how much he had made him worry, Otabek hugged him and kissed him like it didn’t matter. He didn't deserve him. He tried to pull away, but Otabek followed him, moving until Yuri’s back was pressed firmly against the wall and he had nowhere else to go. Otabek cupped his jaw, his fingers tickling his ear and Yuri gave in again. If only he had know Otabek was this good at kissing, he would have started dating him much sooner. They’d already been almost there for nearly three years anyway. But then, his stomach started to churn cold, then he probably would have ended up pregnant a lot sooner too. He pulled away, banging the back of his head against the wall. The warmth was gone and his spine itched, he could even feel himself starting to sweat.

“Babe?” Otabek mumbled, his eyes still half closed, his mouth searching.

Yuri’s heart was racing. He needed to tell him; he had to. Otabek’s fingers ghosted up his sides and he just looked so calm and fucking happy, that Yuri couldn’t take it away from him just then. He shook his head, hurriedly pressing his lips to Otabek’s. He kissed frantically, clutching the back of Otabek’s jacket and holding on tight.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, worrying Otabek’s bottom lip with his teeth.

Otabek huffed out a short laugh, before he sealed their mouths together, sliding his tongue against Yuri’s. The hand on his cheek was there to guide as much as it was to comfort, and Yuri placed his fingers against his wrist.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into the kiss. “You’re here now. You're back.”

“I...” he shook his head, allowing himself to melt against Otabek’s chest.  

Otabek paused, waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t, a knee wormed itself between Yuri’s thighs. Okay, this he could do; he rolled his hips against Otabek’s. Anything that could help him forget how fucked his life was turning out to be was welcome.

“Do you think we can make it to the bedroom?” he smirked, grazing his lips against Otabek’s.

His throat bobbed, and there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. “If you're not too tired...”

Yuri rolled his eyes. He had literally gotten him pregnant, but was still shy about sex. Well, he didn’t know he’d gotten him pregnant yet. Fuck. Ugh, that would come later; it wasn’t the right time now. Flinging his arms around Otabek’s neck and pressing his fingertips to his undercut, he pushed those feeling away. He pulled him closer, feeling the air leave Otabek’s lungs in a rush.

“Are you looking for an excuse?”

He cleared his throat, the pink growing on his cheeks. “Of course not, just that... I was just wondering if you were in the... mood.”

Yuri bit his lip to keep himself from smiling. How could he be so hot, yet so cute?  “I’m in the mood now.”

 

Yuri shivered as Otabek’s callused fingers ran along his bare thigh. He felt like he was burning up, a ferocious heat was building deep in his stomach. Otabek sat between his spread legs, bracing himself on an elbow as he peppered this side of Yuri’s neck with nips and kisses.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Yuri grunted. He’d been ready even before Otabek had decided to work his way up to three fucking fingers to prep him. Like he actually needed it, like he was so wet he could feel it between his thighs and ass cheeks.

“Fuck, Beka,” he panted. “If you don’t get in me  _ now- _ ”

He cut him off, chuckling uneasily. Okay, too vulgar. It wasn’t like they were literally about to have sex anyway. He squirmed, spreading his legs wider and trying to just breathe. Otabek was blushing down to his chest as Yuri felt him shift, and when he glanced down their bodies, he saw him take himself in hand to line up. It was almost a relief when he felt him push inside. Otabek’s jaw was clenched, and he screwed his eyes shut as he slowly slid in. Holding, his breath, Yuri let him take as long as he needed his entire body tingling and hot.

A woosh of air left Otabek’s lungs as he bottomed out, and Yuri’s eyes were already halfway rolled into the back of his head. Far away, he hoped that his nails weren’t breaking skin, from how tightly he was holding on to Otabek’s arms. So fucking full. He bit his lip, relishing the stretch and the heaviness of the hot cock inside of him. He shivered, muscles contracting around Otabek. Otabek leaned forward, pressing his face to Yuri’s neck, before he started to move. He started off slow and shallow, working a spot under Yuri’s ear with his mouth. Yuri felt like he was floating, the only thing that was real was Otabek. He pressed his fingers to the muscles on his back, shifting his hips so that each thrust could hit deeper. He was most definitely moaning, loud and high, but he couldn’t quite hear himself over Otabek’s pants and grunts.

Otabek swore softly, before taking Yuri’s earlobe between his teeth. “I’m not going to last long, baby.” He pushed in, pausing when his hips were pressed flush to Yuri’s ass. “Look at what you do to me.”

Yuri struggled to catch his breath, snaking a hand down his own body to grasp his cock. He pumped it a few times, biting his lip. “Go on then, let’s-”

Otabek batted his hand away, replacing it with his own. Yuri hissed, every single muscle in his body contracted. Otabek pumped him in time with his thrusts, to some secret beat in his head. Yuri’s toes curled and he threw his head back, baring his entire neck. Otabek latched on instantly and Yuri cupped the back of his head, humming as he massaged small circles with his fingertips. Turns out, he wasn’t going to last long either. He ran the fingers of his other hand along the sweat slicked skin of Otabek’s back, down his spine to his ass. He palmed the muscle clenching in time with his thrusts, and nearly howled when Otabek sunk his teeth into his neck. His hips spasmed before he slowed down to a stop, the hand on Yuri’s cock going slack as he rode out his release. Yuri waited, smoothing his hands up his back and threading his fingers in the longer bits of his hair. He felt Otabek’s breath come out in harsh pants, as he slowly came down, kissing the side of Yuri’s neck where he’d bitten him. Though, when Otabek pulled his softening cock from his ass, he felt as if something was missing, and held onto him, silently pleading for more.

Finding his mouth, Otabek sealed their lips together as the hand on Yuri’s cock picked up where it had left off. Yuri forgot they were kissing, pulling back to let out a long breath through his teeth. Otabek moved down his chest, kissing and sucking until he got to a nipple and Yuri’s spine arched so hard he thought he had pulled a muscle. Fuck, when had he gotten so sensitive there? Both hands were at Otabek’s head, pressing him closer, asking for more. He felt him smile as he swirled his tongue around the pebbled bud. Fuck, he could come from this alone, but it wasn’t like the hand on his cock wasn’t doing any wonders. He felt his thumb press against his head and that was all it took. Teeth to one of his nipples and a few more pumps, and he was coming so hard he forgot how to breathe.

After a lazy cleanup they both lay in a mass of tangled limbs, Yuri’s head pillowed on Otabek’s chest as he combed his fingers through long, blond hair. Yuri felt boneless and the rhythm of his own breathing was lulling him to sleep. His palm was flat against the fuzz on Otabek’s lower stomach, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“So, uh, Yura,” Otabek began, his chest rumbling against Yuri’s ear. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why did you, uh, leave all of a sudden? I thought,” he swallowed and his arm was suddenly heavy around Yuri’s shoulders. “When I left that morning everything was, uh, fine.” 

Yuri bit his lip, feeling cold even though Otabek was basically a human-shaped heater. “I needed to do something in Saint Petersburg.”

“That’s not the whole story.” 

Fuck. “Uh, Grandpa and I had a fight.” 

Otabek tensed. “About?” 

He bit his lip. “Nothing important.”

He actually felt the annoyance flood into each cell of Otabek’s body. “So you ran away, scaring everyone half to death over ‘nothing important’?” 

Yuri made to roll away, but Otabek held him in  place with an arm around his waist. “Yura. Please, stop running away.” 

Yuri couldn’t force any words to his mouth. All he he could do was lie on his side, staring wide eyed as Otabek glared at his ceiling. He swallowed, feeling like his throat was going to break apart. 

“Beka, I...” He couldn’t. 

Otabek waited almost a minute before he sighed softly and pulled Yuri back to his chest. “Okay. When you’re ready then, I guess.” 

Yuri knew he wouldn’t push any harder, but even Otabek’s patience had a limit. He had seen him reach it exactly twice. Once was with his parents, talking over him at dinner and ignoring everything he had to say about going to the Gnessin State Musical College after high school. The other was when Yuri had been arguing with one of his exes and he’d grabbed him a bit too roughly. He lay the side of his head against his chest, and throwing his arm back over his stomach. Otabek hooked his arm back around Yuri’s waist, lightly pressing his fingers against his ribs. 

Yuri’s skin was itching, and he wanted to pull away and snuggle closer at the same time. He really didn’t deserve Otabek’s kindness. God, he was going to hate him when he told him that he was pregnant. Well, maybe not hate him. He tilted his head upwards, looking at the underside of Otabek’s jaw. He’d be mad. Mad that he hadn’t told him right away, and at himself for not using protection even though they both knew Yuri had been on birth control. He’d stress himself out trying to come up with a solution, blaming himself for being irresponsible, and probably work himself into another panic attack thinking about what his parents would say. Yuri clenched his jaw, brining his hand up to press flat over Otabek’s heart. It was calm and steady now. Yuri couldn’t bring himself to break it. He couldn't do it now. 

Pressing his lips to Otabek’s chest, giving the skin over his heart a gentle kiss, he mumbled, “I love you.” he did, but right now he felt that he didn’t have the right to. 

Otabek kissed the top of his head, rubbing his hand up and down Yuri’s side. “I love you too.” 

Yuri sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. Everything was so fuck up right now, but every time Otabek said that he could pretend that it all was okay. He snuggled closer, throwing one of his legs over Otabek’s and twining their calves together. Otabek’s muscles shifted as he stretched over to turn off the bedside lamp, and pull the covers up to Yuri’s shoulders. Yuri hummed softly in thanks and Otabek kissed the top of his head again. Yeah, just this was perfect. 

Falling in and out of sleep, it took Yuri a moment to realise that Otabek was still petting him. He had been stroking his side, but his hand had traveled to Yuri’s stomach and he was petting him in long slow strokes. Yuri would honestly let Otabek touch him anywhere, but his hand moved even before his brain had fully woken up. He caught Otabek’s wrist, lifting it from his body. Logically he knew that Otabek wouldn’t have been able to tell he was bloated, much less that there was a baby inside of him. But still, his heart started to race and sweat prickled his armpits and the back of his neck. 

Otabek hummed softly, half asleep himself. He tugged his wrist from Yuri’s grip, resting it on his stomach again, but Yurip ripped it away a split second later. Slowly, they both sat up, Yuri fighting and failing to keep his breathing calm. He could practically feel the tension rolling of Otabek in waves. There was a short moment of silence, before Otabek exhaled roughly and rolled out of the bed. The bathroom door was swinging shut before Yuri could even blink. 

Yuri swallowed, his throat closing up again. He looked down at his stomach, wanting to reach inside of himself and just... he hiccuped as he started to cry. Yeah, Otabek was reaching his limit, but Yuri wasn’t even sure if he could tell him anything yet. 

 

Yuri swallowed, his stomach rolling as he sat down at the kitchen table. Grandpa was already seated across from him, a plate of fresh cookies between them and two cups of steaming tea. It would have been just like any other evening except for the solemn expression on Grandpa’s face and Yuri trying to keep his breath even. He focused on a grease spot on the stovetop, then darted to the pink, checkered dish rag hanging up on the oven handle. 

“So,” Grandpa began with a sigh. Yuri’s eyes snapped to him and the air in the room became just a bit thicker. “We should,” he trailed off, waving his hand. 

Yuri took a sip from his cup, scalding his tongue and the roof of his mouth. 

“Do you know what you want to do... about it yet?”

Yuri shook his head, picking at the string attached to his tea bag. 

“Have you spoken to Beka?”

He shook his head again. 

Grandpa sighed heavily. “Are you planning on involving him at all?”

Yuri’s eyes widened, and the rolling in his stomach paused turning into pure irritation that Grandpa would even ask him that. After all Beka had done for him; he was an honorary Plisetsky, he had spent more time at their house than his own. And even if Yuri hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell him yet, he couldn't imagine not getting his opinion about something this big. Even if it would end up ruining them. “Of course I’m going to tell Beka, uh, when I find the right time.”

“Good.” He seemed the slightest bit relieved. And Yuri ground his teeth; he knew why he was asking. 

“I’m not my mom,” he spat. “I’m  _ going  _ to tell Beka.”

“I know you’re not her-”

“So then what was that? Just because she didn’t tell you who my dad was-”

He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I always wondered where we went wrong with her.” Yuri snapped his mouth shut; Grandpa almost never talked about his daughter. After he had kicked her out that one day the autumn after Yuri had turned six, Grandpa had gone through great lengths to erase her from their lives. It was the autumn he had met Otabek; he remembered dreading going back to school, because everyone on their block knew the story - when she had left after a wild shouting match with Grandpa and bashed in a few windows with a rock. But then there was a new kid on the playground, who had told Yuri that he liked his dress, when all the other kids were pointing at the bruises on his face and the gap where his front teeth should have been, while they whispered loudly about what they overheard their parents saying last night. 

His eyes were already stinging when he looked up at Grandpa. He knew he blamed himself for all of his mom’s shit. “None of that was your fault.”

He sighed deeply. “I thought of you as my second chance. To make up for what went wrong with her.” Yuri swallowed. “And I’m sorry, I should never compare the two of you, but when I heard the news... no.” He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s not an excuse.” 

Yuri took a deep, shaky breath. “No. I get it. I fucked up big time, and it’s not something that will just go away.” He pulled his hand away from his stomach, when he realised where it was resting. 

“No,” Grandpa agreed. “And I think you were also right when you said that maybe some of her feelings for you came from us  _ forcing... _ ” he cleared his throat. “Your babulya and I thought we were doing the right thing. She was dead set against abortions; all life is precious, Yurochka, don't you forget that. But we should have known with your mother; she wasn’t ready for any of it; she was sixteen, and sometimes I think she was even younger mentally. She wasn’t ready for you.” He paused to for a while, staring down at his hands on his lap. “As much as it pained me, I couldn’t admit to myself, your babulya refused to see it too, but even before you were born your mother had no love for you.”

Yuri felt a corner of his mouth stretch into a bitter smile. He knew that. He more than knew that. He remembered asking one of his teachers what aborted meant because she used to yell it at him so much. He got up, crossing the table to wrap his arms around Grandpa’s shoulders. He rested his chin to the crown of his head and waited for him to continue. “We hoped that it would change once you were born, but,” he shook his head. 

Yuri knew the stories. Grandpa hadn’t told him, but he had heard the neighbours gossiping about how they would hear him crying for hours until either his grandpa or grandma came home from work to rescue him. It made his stomach hurt to even think about how his mother could have done that to him, how anyone could do that to their child. 

“It’s okay, Deda,” Yuri mumbled into his hair. “If I decide to keep the baby I would never act like her. I swear it.” 

Grandpa reached up to hold his hand, smoothing his thumbs over his knuckles. “I know, Yurochka, I know.” there was so much behind those words, that Yuri had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling. “But I used to wonder how different it would have been if we had let her do what she wanted.” Yuri blinked, the stigning behind his eyes getting worse. “Your babulya and I made many mistakes with her, but if we had let her get that abortion, then I wouldn’t have you right now, and I don’t think my life would have been even a tenth as good.” Yuri’s stomach hurt, yet his chest expanded in warmth. “So, Yurochka,” he hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him to sit on his knee like he used to do when Yuri was a kid. “I’m not going to pressure you, or guilt you, or force you to do anything with this baby. It’s 100 percent your decision, and I will do my best to support you either way.” He smiled, his eyes turning glassy and the skin around them red. 

Yuri hugged him tightly, the tears finally leaking out. Grandpa hugged him tightly, pressing the back of his head to his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry, Yurochka.” He stroked his hair, as his voice cracked. “I can’t even imagine how scared you must have been, how much this is. I’m so sorry for adding to it.” Yuri shook his head, but he knew that Grandpa was like him and when everything came out, it all came out. The best thing he could let him do now was to speak. He wound his hands around his neck, and screwed his eyes shut. Like Otabek, Grandpa’s scent always calmed him down. “I know what it’s like to be young and foolish and in love. Your babulya and I got married far too young, we were head over heels for each other and thought that just love was enough to keep us living. And your mother, we loved her so much we didn’t know how to be good parents.” He sighed, falling into silence, but continued to stroke Yuri’s hair. 

Yuri tightened his hug. “Deda-”

“I love you so much, Yurochka. And even when I get mad at you, don’t you ever forget that.” 

 

Yuri didn’t really expect Katsudon’s call later that week. He was finally fixing his nails; he’d trimmed them a bit and filed them down to a perfect coffin shape, and was trying to decide what colour to paint them when his phone rang. He grumbled before pressing the answer button, wondering why Katsudon was calling at such a weird time. He hoped nothing was wrong with this kids; he’d already gone over to their house for dinner twice and watched Nikita and Amaya three times. He sighed, switching his hard, ginger candy from one cheek to the other before he answered. 

“Hi, Yuri,” Katsudon’s voice was way too bright. Yuri was instantly suspicious. 

“What do you want?” 

“Want? I… nothing. I don’t want anything.”

“Uh huh. I’m not babysitting.” 

He sighed. “I’m not calling to ask you to babysit. I, uh, have you been back to the doctor since, um...?”

Yuri swallowed, clamping his candy between his molars. “No.” 

There was a short pause. “I... it would probably be a good idea for you to book an appointment.”

Yuri licked his lips, leaning against his headboard and pulling his knees to his chest. “Why, I don’t need to-”

“Yes you do. Look, it’s just to make sure that nothing’s going wrong with-”

“I don’t even know if I’m keeping it or not-”

“With  _ you _ or the baby. There are a few health risks that can go along with pregnancy, and it’d be a good idea to catch them early - if there are any, that is.”

Oh. Yuri blinked, tracing the loose stitching on the edge of his blanket with his index finger. “I... don’t know.”

“Yuri, I would hate it, everyone would, if you ended up really sick.” He already felt really sick. He wrapped his arm around his knees, as if he could stop the churning in his stomach by holding it in place. “It’s nothing scary; I’ll come with you if you want. But you really should do this.” 

Yuri screwed his eyes shut, focusing on his breathing for a moment. The ginger candy wasn’t helping anymore. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start-”

“I can help you,” he forced an awkward chuckle. “I’ve done this twice before, right?” 

“Yeah. okay, I guess.”

“Are you free next week? I can see if I can get an appointment with my obstetrician.” 

“Yeah.”  

When he hung up, Yuri felt as if the world with spinning without him. He looked down at his stomach. Still bloated, but it felt kind of hard when he poked it. He breathed in deeply, forcing both of his hands to the mattress. 

“Look at all the trouble you've caused,” he grumbled, unsure if he was speaking to himself or the thing in his stomach. 

 

“Okay, fair warning,” Katsudon said, locking Yuri’s door before he had a chance to open it. He tried the handle anyway. It clicked uselessly before he gave of and slumped back into the seat. “This visit it going to be a bit long, you’re going to be asked a lot of questions, and there’s going to be a physical exam.”

“A what?” Yuri wanted to throw himself out of the car. They were parked, but still. Maybe the asphalt would knock him out.

Katsudon’s smile was supposed to be comforting, but Yuri felt even more sick after looking at him. He didn't even know how he made it out of the car and into the waiting room without vomiting his guts out.

He let Katsudon do most of the talking, sitting in the plastic chair and staring at his hands. He didn’t want to look up. The office was covered with charts with pregnant women, there were 3d models of various seized fetuses, and the walls were a sickening shade of light, mint green.They’d made him change into one of those hospital gowns and the AC was giving him goosebumps. He’d peed into a cup, they’d swabbed the inside of his cheek and taken like five vials of his blood, and the worst part hadn’t even come yet. The doctor was a bubbly woman with brown and grey hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Yuri didn’t know what to make of her, because she hadn’t even batted an eye when she had learnt his age, but she had looked slightly concerned that he hadn’t had his first appointment at eight weeks. 

“Yuri,” she said, smiling. “We’re going to do the physical part of the exam now. Do you want Yuu, uh, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov to stay?”

His eyes flickered to Katsudon, sitting to his side with a small smile on his face and a smudge on in his glasses. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, reaching out to squeeze Yuri’s hand.

He couldn’t stop the tight feeling in his stomach, or the fact that he could barely breathe. “Uh.”

“I’ll be right outside the door,” Katsudon said, getting up after patting Yuri’s hand. “Call if you need me.”

He nodded. She made him stand on a scale, checked his ears, eyes, and throat, and listened to his heartbeat and breathing, all while narrating what she was doing. He could see why Katsudon had chosen her, but he still couldn’t shake the tightness in his stomach. Especially when she asked him to remove the top half of his gown. 

“We only do this with male omegas since mammary glands grow significantly more than females during pregnancy.” Yuri winced. Right, he was going to grow boobs. She helped him untie the top string, and roll the gown down to his stomach. “I’m just going to apply some pressure to feel for any abnormalities. If you feel any discomfort, let me know.” Yuri looked down his chest. Could she really feel anything this early, though? His chest didn’t look too different, and  _ maybe _ he’d been a bit more sensitive there. He tried not to think too much as she felt around, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep his breathing even. His cheeks still went hot. He had never realised how weird doctor’s gloves felt. Especially against his nipples. 

“Okay, excellent,” she said. Yuri blinked, instinctively bringing his hands up to cover himself. “You’ll probably start to notice significant changes at around sixteen weeks.” She helped him tie up his gown again. “You said that you’ve never had a pelvic exam before, am I right?” He swallowed, nodding. She smiled, her eyes nearly closing. Yuri rubbed his palms together, trying to get feeling into his fingers. “It’s nothing to be frightened about. The worst part with be the pap smear, but I’ll walk you through that as well. It will be a little awkward, I won’t lie, but we’ll be completely professional about it and it’ll be done before you even know it.” 

He doubted that. God, should he have shaved? Fuck. 

  
  


Yuri didn’t think his face would ever turn back to its normal colour. He was back in his jeans and t-shirt sitting in the plastic chair with Katsudon next to him. She had said the pap smear would have been uncomfortable, but, fuck, he still felt a lingering sting. 

“Okay, Yuri, you’re in perfect health, although going forward, I would like you to gain at least five pounds before your next visit.”

His head snapped up. “ _ Five _ pounds?” Katsudon began rubbing his shoulder. 

She nodded. Like hell that was going to happen. “You’re rather close to being underweight for your height and age group. It takes a lot to grow a baby, and this will help you both in the long term.” 

Yuri ground his teeth. He was  _ not _ going to make himself fat. “And what if I get an abortion?”

“That is also an option of course. But in case you didn’t already know, abortions aren’t usually performed after twenty-four weeks, except in the case of medical emergencies. You’re at ten weeks now, so I would suggest that you make a decision soon.” 

Twenty-four weeks. He swallowed; that wasn’t a lot of time. Fuck. And Otabek... just fuck. 

“So as far as I can see, your are healthy and baby seems healthy too. You are experiencing some toxemia, but from your description it isn’t too severe and you are able to keep food down.” Yuri nodded, but his head was spinning. 

“Yes, ginger and b-12 vitamins have been helping him a lot.” Katsudon offered.

“That’s wonderful; keep taking those in that case. It will take a few days for your blood work to come back, so we can be sure that baby is in perfect health and there is no risk to either of you then, but in the meantime, just take it easy and get a lot of rest. I would suggest that you start taking a multivitamin. And if all goes as planned you should start showing at around twelve weeks.”

In two weeks. Well that was fucking great. He already had to suck in to button his skinny jeans. Yuri picked at his cuticles as Katsudon placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t even know if I’m keeping the baby. Who even cares.”

There was a moment of heavy silence. 

“Well,” the doctor said, just as brightly. “If there is a chance that you do, we should be prepared for it and that includes watching your health.” 

Yuri ground his teeth, wanting to storm out and scream. He didn’t want any of this. It had been a mistake; he didn’t want to be fucking pregnant, and here these two were, talking as if he wanted to go through with it. As if he wanted to have a baby at fucking seventeen. He clenched his palms, nails digging into his skin. Katsudon grabbed his hand, forcing his palms to relax and rubbed his fingertips against the indents in Yuri’s palm. He stared at his feet, his stomach bubbling like a witch’s cauldron. His tongue tasted bitter and he just wanted to get up, find a closet and scream until he lost his voice. 

“Our receptionist has a few handy materials on foods to avoid, exercise, travel, and sex during pregnancy, and some brochures about environmental hazards that can affect your baby. She can also help you schedule your next appointment.” 

“Thank you,” Katsudon  offered, when Yuri refused to look up from his feet. 

“Of course. And, Yuri, before you leave,” she waited for him to look at her. He had never felt so much rage so quickly before. He started to shake. “Our office also offers counselling. I recognise that this is a very  _ trying  _ time for you. There are going to be so many changes happening so quickly, and your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Do not wait, if you feel overwhelmed or even the slightest bit apprehensive, don’t hesitate to book an appointment.”

“We won’t.” Katsudon answered firmly. 

Yuri wanted to punch him. 

Grandpa found him later that day sitting in his room, with his pillow clutched to his chest, and the curtains pulled shut. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in that position, but his throat was so dry it hurt and he felt the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes. It was a small miracle that he didn’t feel that nauseated, but his bladder felt like it was about to burst and he still didn’t want to get up. He’d been alternating between feeling like he couldn’t breathe and falling through his mattress, to punching his pillow in rage while holding back angry tears. 

Grandpa came in and quietly sat down next to him on the bed in the darkness. “How was your appointment?” he asked after a heavy moment. 

Yuri buried his face into his pillow, wanting to curl up and die. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “And the baby’s fine.” 

He reached out, setting a hand on his shoulder before he pulled Yuri into a tight hug. “Thank God.” 

Yuri swallowed, letting himself slump into the hug. He held onto the front of his shirt like he used to do when he was younger and Grandpa stroked his hair. 

“Grandpa?”

“Yes, Yurochka?”

He bit his lip, screwing his eyes shut. “I’m scared.” His voice sounded so small.

Grandpa’s chest rose as he inhaled. He gently cupped the back of Yuri’s head, thumb stroking the hollow behind his ear. “What are you scared of?” 

“Everything. There’s so much I have to do, can’t do. I... I don’t even know.” 

“It’s going to be alright. I promise you.”

Yuri swallowed, finding a hole in the hem of his shirt and sticking his finger through it. “They said I need to have the abortion before twenty-four weeks. That’s fourteen weeks, like three months - and the sooner the better. I don’t know what to do.” 

He was silent for a longer while, still stroking Yuri’s ear. “That’s a very difficult choice,” he sighed. “Have you spoken to Beka?”

He shook his head. “I think you need to start there.” 

Yuri swallowed. “But, what if he hates me? What if he leaves?” 

Grandpa tensed for the bearest of seconds. “He won’t. I’ve watch you two grow up and, no. he won’t. You should know that.”

“But his parents-”

“This won’t be the first time he’s stood up to them. Our Beka is a strong boy, and he knows right from wrong. He’d never run away from this, from you. You should have more faith in him.” 

Yuri swallowed. He should, but there was the tiniest bit of doubt that had managed to grab hold of his heart and lungs. If Beka left him, he didn’t know what he would do. He’d been his best friend, his only friend, for so long that he honestly didn’t know how to even  _ be  _ without him. 

“Let me show you something.” He eased Yuri off of him and slipped from the room. He returned in a few minutes with a small photo album. Yuri shuffled over, allowing him to sit more comfortably on the bed. “I was looking through this the other day and,” he flipped open to a page and pointed to a photograph. It was a picture of Otabek and Yuri in the living room. Yuri was yelling something at the camera, brandishing a stuffed tiger over his head, while Otabek’s expression was deadpan as always as he held onto a stuffed zebra and a pig. They had taken off all the cushions from the couch and arranged them on the floor. Yuri felt a small smile crack his face. “You were making a zoo for them.” Grandpa chuckled. “Do you remember that?” Yuri shook his head, leaning against Grandpa’s shoulder. “No?” he clicked his tongue. “You took all the pillows from the beds too, and you used all your babulya’s doilies to decorate each exhibit. Otabek made admission tickets and you were the head tour guide. You really don’t remember?”

It sounded like something they would have done. He reached out to flip the page. The next one was full of him and Otabek as well, at the pool with arm floaties, grinning behind birthday cakes, climbing monkey bars and going down slides. Yuri’s eyes started to prickle and his vision went blurry. He wiped his face, hoping Grandpa wouldn’t notice, but he started to sniffle. Grandpa’s arm came around his shoulder and he pulled him close. Yuri couldn’t stop himself from sobbing, his shoulders shook as he pressed his face to Grandpa’s sleeve. His chest was too tight, his stomach was upside down, and his throat felt like it was tearing itself apart. Grandpa hugged him tightly, resting his cheek on top of his head. 

“You two will get through this together. Just like you’ve gotten through everything else.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to get sweet and fluffy, I swear.  
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> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **March 16th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	6. Chapter 6

Yuri pulled on the loosest shirt he could find in his closet and looked at himself in the mirror. So fucking gross. He looked like a slob and he felt like a cow. Fitting. He scratched at a wrinkle and  tugged at the hem of his shirt even though it fell past his mid-thigh and hung off his shoulders. He felt even more bloated than yesterday, and still had to suck in his stomach to button his jeans. The waistband definitely felt tight, but then he could just not eat that much this afternoon. He sucked in his stomach turning to the side and flattening his shirt against it. It wasn’t flat anymore, he let his stomach relax; he looked like he had drank five bottles of water and eaten like seven baked potatoes. Gross. If he could just hold it in for the rest of the afternoon - 

“Is Grandpa mad at me?” Otabek asked, slipping into Yuri's room; his hair was still a bit damp from the shower, but he was immaculate in a white button-up shirt and dark jeans. Yuri jumped, letting his hands fall from his stomach, the quickly adjusted the collar of his shirt to bare one shoulder. His heart was racing and he prayed that Otabek hadn’t seen him examining his stomach. 

“No. Why?”

“I dunno,” Otabek shrugged, stepping over to Yuri’s closet for his shoes. “Just felt like he was upset about something.”

Yuri bit his lip, turning around to the jewellery hook on his wall. He picked up a long chain with a red, square pendant then considered it for a while then also chose a shorter one with a small, blue, enamel rose. “It’s just Grandpa being Grandpa. Which one?” 

Otabek tilted his head to the side. “Maybe you should change your shirt first. My mom will say something about it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Yuri’s spine itched in annoyance. 

“Yura… it’s hanging  off you like a sack. You know she’s going to say something.” 

He growled, turning back around to his closet. His skin was too small, and crawling with ants. And the sudden urge to strangle Otabek and his parents rose from the pit of his stomach. “You can’t tell me what to wear.” 

“I’m not. I’m just suggesting it, because my mom will-”

“I don’t even want to go!” he yelled, stomping his foot like a child. 

Otabek sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of socks.  “Yeah, well I don’t want to go either.” 

Otabek had called Yuri yesterday to tell him that his parents had invited them over for Sunday lunch. And, with his exams done, he didn’t have a reason to say no. So here they both were dressing up like utter fools to go have lunch with Otabek’s family. Yuri knew that it was going to end badly. 

“Then you should have fucking said no,” he growled and Otabek stared at him, face impassive and a bit cold. Yuri glared right back, clenching his jaw. 

“I’m not forcing you to come.” 

“You fucking know I have to come.”

Otabek sighed. “Do you? If it’s going to be a fight, then forget it.”

“ _ Forget it _ ?” he felt like even his eyes were shaking in anger.

“I’ll go by myself.” A muscle in his jaw was popping as he ground his teeth together. 

They stared at each other for a few more minutes, neither wanting to give in, until Yuri’s eyes began to sting. Fuck. Why was he so mad? It wasn’t Otabek’s fault he was getting fat or, well, actually it was. He screwed his eyes shut, rubbing his temple and let pushing the anger away with a few deep breaths. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, glaring at his feet. “I didn’t… I’m just being stupid. I’ll go with you - just…”

Otabek sighed. “No, I know my parents are hard to take.”

Yuri snorted. “ _ That’s _ putting it lightly.”

“I haven’t gone home since before my exams. I ran out of excuses.” Otabek looked up at him through his eyelashes, almost like a guilty puppy. The big dark eyes didn't help much either. Yuri bit his lip, turning away. 

“Yeah.” He tucked his hair behind his ears, looking into his closet for another shirt loose enough to hide his stomach. “I won’t let you face them by yourself. You won’t leave alive.”

Otabek scoffed. “Probably not. Nasiv is coming too, so they might get him to help hide my body.”  

Yuri felt a small grin stretch his mouth. “God, is he still a suck up? Even after moving to campus housing?” 

“He’s how my mom trained him.” 

He snorted, grinning at Otabek from over his shoulder. He was still sitting on the edge of his bed, an ankle crossed over his knee leaning back slightly with his palms against the mattress. Yuri felt his smile fall, as something warm and big expanded in his chest. He cleared his throat, looking away.

“So what then, how’re we gonna do this?” He pulled out another shirt, a layered, sleeveless blouse and sighed. It would do, it wasn’t as loose, but the layers would hide anything. He tugged off the shirt he was wearing, tossing it to the ground before pulling the new one over his head and freeing his hair from the collar. Otabek was staring at him, and Yuri realised with cold dread what he had just done. Fuck. 

He had to remind himself that he wasn’t really showing yet. Otabek wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at him. Even if he felt fat and bloated, Katsudon had assured him that he didn’t look it. Still, his spine went cold and he turned away, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Fuck, no, that would just draw attention to it. He forced his hand to his sides, biting his lip hard. 

“We’ll go late and leave early, I guess,” Otabek mumbled as Yuri pulled on a dark, denim jacket. 

Yuri shook out his limbs, before turning around. It was fine. Otabek didn’t know anything. 

“Better?” he asked, holding his arms out and facing him. He wanted to sound snide, but he felt like he was trembling. 

“Beautiful,” Otabek stood up, sliding his socked feet against the carpet until he was close enough to rest his palms against Yuri’s hips. With the way he stared at him, dark eyes sparkling, Yuri could almost believe him. 

 

The Altin’s lived in a nice neighbourhood in a rather large house. Yuri wasn’t quite sure what his father did, just that his job had required the entire family to move from Almaty, Kazakhstan  to Moscow. He might have worked in a bank or a hospital. Otabek’s mom, however, was one of the biggest hypocrites Yuri had ever seen. She didn’t have a job, whether by choice or not, but talked non-stop about the importance of a good, high-paying career to Otabek and his siblings. He had taken pleasure in the way her face had gone pale when he had told him how much his troupe had won at their last competition. If Otabek had told her how successful he was with his YouTube channel, he was positive she would get off his back about his career choice, but he hadn’t said a word to her. 

Yelena, Otabek’s younger sister, opened the door for them, and Otabek bent down to hug her briefly. The smell of canned tomato paste hit Yuri in the face, and he swallowed. His mouth salivating and turning bitter with the taste of bile. Fuck. 

“You’re late,” Yelena grumbled, pulling Yuri into a hug once Otabek had let go. 

“Sorry,” Otabek answered. “Yuri took forever to get ready-”

“Hey!” Yuri elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t worry, Nasiv isn’t here yet. He might not even turn up, who knows.” 

“Dad’s not here either?” Otabek glanced over his shoulder to the garage, but the gate was shut. 

Yelena shook her head. “He should have been back by now. Don’t mention it to mom, she’s already pissed.”

“Great.” Otabek, raked his hand through his hair, pulling Yuri to his side with the other.

Yuri winced as Yelena rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m in my room  _ studying _ until lunch is ready.”

“Isn’t it summer?” Yuri scoffed as she trotted up the stairs, shiny, black hair cascading down her back. 

“Shhhh,” she giggled over her shoulder before she disappeared from sight.

She was a year younger than him, but he knew that she was already preparing for university exams. He didn’t have anything against her, she had been nothing but nice to him, but he always felt stupid whenever she opened her mouth. 

“Beka?” Otabek’s mom called out from further inside the house. He sighed softly, toeing off his shoes and waiting for Yuri to do the same. 

“Yeah, mom. I’m here, with Yuri.” 

“Finally.” She appeared in the foyer, wiping her hands on a dish cloth. “I told you all twelve, and it’s one thirty. Don't you know how to tell time? Come here,” she held out her hands tucking the dishcloth into her back pocket. Otabek went to her, giving her a hug and a kiss, and Yuri offered a polite smile. 

“Hi, Yuri,” She said once Otabek had let her go. “How is everything? Your Grandfather’s well?” 

He nodded. “Grandpa’s fine. He said his back hasn’t been giving him any more pain, so I guess that’s good.”

She nodded, ushering them into the dining room. The table was already set, with neat white placemats and a bouquet of white roses in the centre. “It is. Very good. And you? How is your dancing?” 

He bit his lip and Otabek’s arm was instantly around his waist. He didn’t miss the way Otabek’s mom’s eyes flickered towards it and the way her face hardened. “I, uh. I’m on medical leave actually.” He swallowed, and fuck, just how many cans of tomato paste did she use? He leaned against Otabek’s side, already feeling nauseated. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. I… my ankle. I strained it.”

She clicked her tongue. “Maybe you should have Nasiv take a look at it when he gets here.” She always took the chance to bring up the fact that her first son was pre-med. He tried not to gag, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva. 

He offered a tight smile. “Maybe.” He tilted his head, turning his face ever so slightly so that he could press his cheek to Otabek’s collar and breathed in deeply, hoping that his smell would mask the scent of the tomato.

 

Otabek’s dad and older brother didn’t look anything like him. They were tall and willowy with wavy hair and long, pointed noses. Yuri was glad that Otabek had gotten his mother’s nose, with the cute upturned tip. He’d definitely gotten the hotter brother, even if he wasn’t quite up to his parents’ standards. 

“So, Beka, how did your exams go?” his father asked, slicing a large chunk of beef. Sitting down at the table was getting harder by the second, because a pot of beef stew - the source of all the tomato paste - was set right between him and Nasiv, and he was trying not to breathe, but the longer he held his breath the stronger the nausea grew. Breathing through his mouth wasn’t quite cutting it either.

“I, uh I think they went well,” Otabek muttered around his glass of water. Yuri grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed gently.

“You think?” 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Grades aren’t posted until the end of the month. But I feel good about them.”

“How do you even have exams?” Nasiv asked, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t music all practical?”

“No,” Otabek sighed. “We have music theory, and things like history and that stuff.” 

“What’s your major again? I always forget.” _Wow_. Yuri glared at him. 

“Computer music and arrangement,” he ground out, and Yuri smoothed his thumb over his knuckles. 

“Fancy,” Yelena chuckled. 

“Yes, well I hope the grades turn out to be as good as you feel about them,” His father muttered, gazed locked on Otabek. 

Otabek hung his head. “Yes, Dad.” 

Yuri used his free hand to move the chunks of beef from one side of the shallow bowl to the other. He was still trying not to breathe through his nose; but breathing through his mouth was too obvious. Yelena and her mother had occasionally been giving him weird looks. The table fell into silence for a few moments the only sound was the clinking of utensils. 

“You’re graduating this year, right Yuri?” Otabek’s father started. 

Yuri held his breath for a moment, and swallowed. “No, it would be next year, but-”

“You’re  _ still  _ seventeen?” Nasiv chuckled. 

Yuri forced a grin. “My birthday’s in March. You better not have forgotten.” 

Nasiv held up his hands in mock surrender, but their father put an end to the light mood. “Will your Grandfather be traveling to Saint Petersburg for the ceremony then?”

“Uh,” he was sure he had explained this to him already. “I won’t be attending a ceremony, actually. I’m being tutored; I don’t, really go to a school any more.” 

“Why not?” He set his spoon down. 

“There’s no time, and if I’m serious about dancing then I can’t spend all day sitting in a classroom.”

“Is that the norm for your…  _ profession _ ?” 

“No. I chose to go with a tutor rather than waiting until I graduated to join Lilia’s academy-”

“You and Otabek are a pair,” Otabek’s mother sighed. Yuri ground his teeth together. “Oh and Nasiv, Yuri hurt his foot, I think you should take a look-”

“That’s okay. I’ve already gone to the foot specialist. I just need a bit of rest then I can start physiotherapy in a few months.” 

“What happened?” Nasiv asked, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 

“I strained a tendon.” He nodded at him to continue. “It’s… Peroneal Tendonitis. I  _ already  _ have a recovery plan.” He didn’t need someone in only in their third year of university to add to his diagnosis.

“Oh, well that sucks. Tendonitis is a pain just because it’s reoccuring and you can’t really  _ cure  _ it.”

Yuri was sure he heard one of his molars crack. Otabek’s mother turned towards him. “Will that harm your value as a... dancer?” 

What even? “No-”

“I would hate to see your  _ career  _ cut even shorter.”

“I’ll be fine-” 

“Mom, Dad, did I tell you about the university prep course my school is offering this summer?” Yelena cut him off, drawing both her parent’s attention. “Most of the people going to take it are a year older than me but my science teacher said I should try to get in.”

“That would be an excellent idea. It would look good on your resume too,” their mother said nodding.

Yuri let out a deep sigh, but then held his breath as the fucking tomatoes assaulted him again. Yelena nudged his foot under the table. Nasiv mouthed an apology as well. Yeah, that was why he didn’t really like Otabek’s parents. They didn’t say it aloud, but he knew they thought he was wasting his time dancing. Never mind that he’d been scouted by Lilia herself and had gotten a scholarship  _ before  _ he had even graduated high school. It was Otabek’s turn to squeeze his hand. 

“You’re not hungry, Yuri?” Nasiv asked, eyeing Yuri’s almost full bowl. 

Otabek’s mother’s eyes swivelled towards him and both Yelena and Otabek slapped a hand to their foreheads causing Nasiv to instantly recognise his mistake. 

“You don’t like it?” Her voice was sharp. 

Yuri quickly scooped a bit of the thick goop onto his spoon and forced it into his mouth. He couldn’t taste anything other than the tomato paste and the smell nearly had him gagging. “No, it’s  good. I was just,” he swallowed fighting to keep everything down. “Caught… up…” he swallowed again, fuck. “Talking.” She watched him swallow another spoonful before turning back to Yelena. Yuri had never tasted anything so disgusting in his life. The smell was going straight to his head, a headache bursting to life behind his eyes, and nausea hit him like a brick wall. His stomach was in his throat and it stung and burned. He gagged, casing Otabek to turn to him, raising an eyebrow in question. He shook his head, but was already pushing his chair back.

“Sorry, bathroom,” he managed to mumble, before clamping a hand over his mouth and running to the powder room. 

He heard Otabek following him, but the stunned silence from the rest of the table was louder. 

Otabek gathered his hair at the nape of his neck and rubbed his back as Yuri gagged over the toilet. He vomited everything he had eaten since his small breakfast, hot tears forming at the corners of his eyes. His stomach twisted and lurched until he was sure he was going to vomit it out too. When he started dry heaving, he realised that there were little black droplets on the toilet seat from where his mascara had mixed with the tears. 

Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to explain this?

Taking a few deep breaths and spitting out the last of the bile and saliva, he sat back, bumping against Otabek’s calf. 

“Yura?” he asked, kneeling on the fuzzy mat next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You okay?”

Yuri swallowed, ignoring the burn in his throat and mouth. “ _ Do I look okay _ ?” he forced himself to his feet, pushing Otabek away. “Fuck, I… Shit.”

Otabek got up as well, flushing the toilet and maneuvering around him in the small bathroom to fill the glass next to the sink with water. “I’ll, uh, tell my parents we’re going home. You clean up.” 

He left the door open and Yuri could hear his mother’s questioning, her voice almost shrill in his ears. 

“Did he vomit, Otabek? What’s wrong with him?” 

He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip. Fuck.

“He hasn’t been feeling well lately, Mom-”

“Not feeling well? He was fine one minute then the next-”

“He went to the doctor-”

“The  _ doctor _ ? How long has he been  _ sick _ for?”

“Uh, a few weeks.”

God, Otabek, shut up. He was making it worse. 

“A few  _ weeks _ ?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Otabek, bring him home right now.”

Shit. She knew. She fucking knew. 

“I was going to.”

There was a moment of silence where Yuri felt like he was going to vomit again, and leaned against the corner of the sink holding his stomach. He took a mouthful from the glass of water swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out into the sink. 

“Wait, let me pack up some food for you. Do you have enough money for groceries?” 

He shut the door, feeling as if his lungs were going to collapse, and sat on the closed toilet lid. The voices were drowned out, but he wouldn't have been able to hear them over his pulse thundering in his ears. He held the sides of his head, leaning over and ignoring the residual nausea. He shouldn't have come here today. 

There was a knock on the door and Otabek called out softly, “Babe? You ready to go?” 

Yuri sprang to his feet, slipping through the door and tucking himself under Otabek’s outstretched arm. He pulled his shoulders up to his ears, as Otabek pressed a quick kiss to his temple. As they left through the front door Yuri saw Otabek’s mother glaring at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. 

She fucking knew. 

 

“Yura! Yura, wait!” Otabek called after him, but Yuri didn’t slow down.

His lungs were on fire, his ankle felt like it was broken, but he still sprinted down the street to the train station. His heart was in his throat and he didn’t know what he was even supposed to do. Otabek had asked how his stomach was feeling and he had just panicked and took off. He was still faster than Otabek, and fitter too; he was struggling to keep up. 

“Yura!” 

Yuri slowed down slightly, his throat closing up and eyes beginning to sting. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t turn around and face Otabek either. Fuck, he should have just stayed home. 

He scrubbed at his face, weaving between people as they exited the station, and nearly fell down the staircase leading to the platform. He just managing to grab the handrail to keep upright and jumped down the stairs two at a time. He lost a few seconds, swiping his card, but rushing to the right platform was a blur. A train pulled up with an ear splitting screech and rumble, just as he stumbled through the sparse crowd. He leapt through the doors, nearly running over a middle aged man. He sunk onto one of the slippery plastic seats, gasping for air; his ankle was throbbing, sending fire up his leg and his toes were tingling, growing numb. He shouldn’t have been running in these boots; he shouldn’t have been running at all. The back of his head bumped against the smudged window and just as the doors closed, he saw Otabek skid onto the platform, looking around wildly for him. 

Their eyes met through the window, and Yuri felt like vomiting again. Otabek’s jaw was slack, face red, and hair a mess. Yuri could see his chest heaving despite the distance. He stopped short, hands falling to his sides, and watched the train leave, looking like the textbook definition of giving up. Yuri didn’t even realise he was crying until a tear tickled his chin. 

Yuri stayed on the train until it reached the last stop, curled up in a ball, watching as people got on and off, giving him odd looks and keeping their distance. He knew he looked a mess, probably like an insane person with black tear tracks and messy hair. It took almost five stops for his thoughts to calm down, for the adrenaline to ease from his system and leave utter exhaustion and tight muscles. He shouldn’t have run away; he tugged at the edge of his jacket and leaned over, banging  his forehead against his knee. He hadn’t been thinking; he’d panicked and the only thing that made sense was getting as far away from Otabek as possible. Hiding. He could have kicked himself; he always did this, like he was some fucking spooked animal. Fuck, if he was Otabek he would have given up too. He wouldn’t even have made friends with himself in the first place. 

Fuck, he was such an idiot. His leg slipped from the seat, banging against the ground with a stomp loud enough the woman next to him jumped. He was supposed to be  _ talking  _ to Otabek and this was a fucking leap in the wrong direction. He didn’t want him to find out. He didn’t know how to tell him. He wanted to tell him, and he needed him to help figure this out. He grumbled loudly. What the hell did he even want? He didn’t fucking know. Like, he had to tell Otabek and risk losing him as a boyfriend or even a friend. He didn’t want that. He had no fucking clue, and running away had seemed like the best option. 

Sighing again, every single muscle in his back began to hurt, feeling like the actual world was on his shoulders. He let his other foot fall to the floor and slid down in the hard plastic seat, until his Butt was pressed against the edge. The waistband of his jeans dug into his stomach and he sat back up, rubbing it. this wasn't going to go away, no matter how far he ran. It was just going to grow inside of him until he made a choice. Okay, he had to tell Otabek; there was no option. He wasn’t going to - he couldn’t do this by himself. He couldn’t make such a huge decision all on his own, because if he chose wrong then - panic rose in his chest so quickly that it made him gasp for breath. 

His father hadn’t been involved at all, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would have hated him too. He would have liked to think he wouldn’t have, that he would have hugged him, or taught him how to catch, or ride a bike or shit like that. He scoffed bitterly; he didn’t even know his name, or if he knew that he had a son. Yeah, well he wasn’t going to let that happen again. He didn’t have much time until most abortion clinics would turn him away, and ten weeks had been more than enough fucking time to keep a secret. Besides, Otabek’s mother knew, and it wouldn’t be long before she confronted them about it, if she hadn’t already called. 

What he really needed to do was to stop fucking running. He pinched the bridge of his nose, before getting up and holding onto one of the centre poles, to wait for the train to pull up to its next stop. 

 

Yuri hadn’t seen Otabek look this pissed in a long time. After he had opened the door for him, he sat down on the couch, hunching over his knees and steepling his fingers under his nose. He was staring at the blank television; his blurry reflection was absolutely menacing. Yuri could feel the tension rolling off of him; the air in the room was hard to breathe. The back of his neck prickled and he was already starting to sweat. 

Clearing his throat and standing awkwardly to the side of the couch, Yuri crossed his arms across his chest, to hide their shaking. “Beka?”

Otabek didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge that he heard him. Yeah, he was pissed. God, this was such a fucking bad idea.  Maybe he should just disappear, run away to Lavrentiya or Alaska, and forget about him and everyone else. He swallowed as his stomach began to roll and the room blurred around him. Or, he should just go ahead with the abortion, and save Otabek all the trouble. That would be easier than have him hating him. But no, then he would have made one of the same choices his mother had. He was not going to do that. Otabek needed to know, even if it was the bare minimum he needed to be involved in this. 

He swallowed again. “Bek-”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Otabek spat, his voice low, deep, and dangerous. 

Yuri shivered. He breathed deeply, stealing his nerves, but feeling the like floor was jelly. “I… I don’t want you to say anything. This one’s… this one’s on me.” 

Otabek’s head slowly swivelled towards him. 

Yuri took another deep breath, his stomach clenching so hard he thought he was going to be sick. He had to do this, though. There was no other way, especially not after what had happened today. He deserved this; he deserved to know. And, Yuri really, really needed his help. “I… w-we need to talk.”

“I know.” 

He cleared his throat. “Can… can I sit?” Otabek raised an eyebrow, but didn’t do or say anything else. Yuri sat down as far away from him as he could, pressing his side into the arm rest. “Beka, I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” he hissed. “For running away  _ again _ ?” He exhaled heavily, his entire body moving with it. “I want to help you, but… I don’t know. Why is it so hard for you to trust me? To let me in? I don’t know what I did to make you not want to  _ fucking  _ tell me anything.”

Yuri swallowed; Otabek never sweared. It sounded like poison on his tongue. “It’s not you-”

“Then why?” He spun to face him, slamming a fist into the back of the couch. It shook, causing Yuri's spine to jolt into uncomfortable straightness. “Why won’t you let me help you? I want to help you!” Yuri flinched so hard he nearly slipped from the couch. Otabek’s eyes widened and he instantly fell back. “Sorry. I…” he sighed, covering his face with his hands. 

Yuri wrapped his arms around his stomach. He wasn’t nauseated, but he still wanted to vomit. “I didn’t mean to… but - It’s so hard.”

“Hard? We tell each other everything, Yuri. When did that ever change?” 

Yuri bit his lip, his eyes suddenly stung fiercely and his nose clogged up. “I… ‘cause I don’t want you to leave me.”  Fuck, his heart was racing now, beating so hard and fast that he thought he was going to pass out. 

Otabek blinked and he could almost see the thoughts spinning in his head. Yuri sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“ _ Why would I leave you _ ?” 

His throat was so tight it stung too. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. He took a deep breath, ashamed at how loud and shaky it was. His nails were probably digging crescent shaped gouges into his sides. He screwed his eyes shut. “Because I’m pregnant!” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a scream.

The walls rattled with how loud his voice was, or he could have just imagined it. Everything was shaking now, including the silence that rang in his ears like a steaming kettle. He collapsed, nearly folding himself in half, burying his face into his own lap. He waited, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and waited for Otabek to get up, for a door to slam, or a fist across his cheek - he had no idea where that one came from. But there was nothing. And the nothing lasted long enough for him to start gagging and for cold to seep right to his core, sinking into his stomach. 

“Beka?” he asked softly, slowly sitting up. “Beka, say something.” Why wasn’t he doing anything? He was still in the same position, like he hadn’t even heard what he said. “Beka-”

He exhaled loudly then, raking his hand through his hair and going grey. He screwed his eyes shut, turning away and breathing heavily. Yuri could have died. His vision blurred, turning grey. This was it. Otabek was going to leave him. This was the last he'd ever see of him and -

“I was…” Otabek's voice was shaking. “I was hoping that you weren’t.” 

Yuri blinked, his insides crumbling. “Y- you knew?”

“I’m not  _ stupid _ , Yuri. You were vomiting your guts up constantly, you were always tired and grumpy, and when I touched your stomach…” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t going to assume anything, but…” he shook his head. “I wanted you to say something before.” 

Yuri swallowed as his shoulders began to shake and he hiccupped, breaking down in a matter of seconds. He was such a fucking idiot. 

Otabek moved this time. The leather of the couch squeaked under his jeans. He wrapped an arm around Yuri’s shoulders, pulling him tight against his chest and stroking his hair. “God, Yura, I would never leave you. Not like this, never like this.” His voice shook again, and when Yuri managed to look up, his eyes were red and glassy. He placed a firm, wet kiss to his forehead, before resting his cheek to the top of his head. Yuri held onto the front of his shirt, tugging and feeling his nails scratch his chest through the fabric. 

 

The decorative clock hanging above the television read two. Yuri’s body was exhausted, his limbs tingling while they felt like lead. His entire face felt raw, and his eyes were so puffy that he could barely open them. He and Otabek sat on opposite ends of the couch with mugs of steaming tea in their hands. The hot ceramic was burning Yuri’s palms, but he refused to put the mug down. Otabek had his in the space between his crossed legs, holding the rim and making the tea bag dance in the water by playing with the string. 

“How,” he cleared his throat. “How far along are you?” 

Yuri swallowed. “Ten weeks.”

He heard the sharp intake of breath. He knew he should have told him sooner, and he was probably even more pissed that he hadn’t, but he didn’t say anything. Apart from the hiss of air, there was no reaction. 

“You’ve already gone to the doctor about it?”

“Twice.” He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. “There are no complications so far, I… we’re both healthy. But… but, I don’t know.” He ducked his head, shoulders coming up to meet his ears. 

“Okay, so what are we going to do?” 

He appreciated Otabek’s bluntness, he really did, but, “I don’t know.”

“Okay. We’ll figure it out.” 

Yuri opened his eyes, looking up at him. He looked to fucking tired, but he smiled so softly that Yuri felt like crying again. At the same time he was just so relieved. And so relieved that all he could really feel was a warm soft of exhaustion. Otabek was still here. Grandpa had been right. And even though everything was still turning into shit, at least he still had his best friend. 

“Okay.” His voice was soft and hitched at the end. 

“And Yura?” Otabek paused for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “I still love you.” 

Yuri started crying again, the tears were almost instantaneous, but this time they came from a warm, fuzzy place in his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a long time coming, but now the story is going to take a bit of a shift. I promised fluff, but still be on the lookout for a bit of angst and drama :D  
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> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **March 30th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Mentions of child abuse  
> \- In-depth discussion about abortion: I’m not sugar coating, or glossing over anything in this story. Please proceed with caution.

Yuri honestly felt like Katsudon had slapped him in the face. He was still a bit stunned, eyes glued to the staircase where he’d stormed off, footsteps shaking the wood. Viktor had followed shortly after, looking both peeved and concerned. Yuri swallowed, feeling his chest tighten and his stomach grow cold. Katsudon had never lost it like that before, it had been terrifying. Amaya probably would have started to cry if she had been in the room, actually Nikita too, for that matter. _Yuri_ felt like crying; he had forgotten just how sharp Katsudon’s tongue could be. He glanced over to Otabek; he looked just as stricken, his shoulders slumped and a deep frown across his brow.

He cleared his throat. “He’s, right, though,” he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

He was right. He was always right, a fountain of fucking wisdom. Yuri knew that time was running out, that he had to make a decision soon. He knew that it wasn’t just going to go away if he didn't look, but it was honestly just so fucking hard. Hard to even _think_ about making the decision. Katsudon had said that he wouldn’t pressure him towards any decision, but apparently his in-decision was a problem too. 

“Yura?” Otabek started softly, biting his lip. “We…” he didn’t know how to end the sentence, and ended in a huff. 

“Yeah.” He swallowed again, suddenly feeling dizzy to the point of falling over even though he was sitting down. He flopped against the backrest, hopping that Otabek wouldn’t notice. 

He and Katsudon had gone back to the doctor’s office that morning; Yuri’s blood work had come back from the lab. He hadn’t been worried but as the doctor had gone through the list of tests, and things they had checked for, he began to think that he should have been. They hadn’t picked up any serious problems. But he was nearing twelve weeks now, and the end of his first trimester - or whatever the fuck that was, and things were about to change even more. He didn’t know how much more fucking change he could take, to be honest. 

He was still nauseated all the fucking time, he was unreasonably tired all the fucking time, and his jeans were too fucking tight. 

So, he hadn’t meant to snap at the doctor, and honestly he hadn’t sounded that rude in his head. And how was he supposed to know that she was some sort of fucking prude that got offended by cursing? 

Katsudon had all but yelled at him on the drive back home then let it loose as soon as both he and Otabek had sat down in the living room. 

“I know we’re asking you to make a very difficult decision,” he had yelled once Viktor had taken this children upstairs. “But you need to grow up, Yuri!” 

Yuri had clenched his jaw as his eyes watered and stung. 

“You may not want this baby, but you cannot be going around like it doesn’t exist!” 

Otabek had jumped in. “What do you mean?”

Katsudon ignored him. “You need to watch your health-”

“Oh, well I’m sorry I can’t gain any weight if I’m fucking puking my guts out daily!” Yuri leapt from the couch, balling his hands into fists. “You even said your morning sickness wasn’t this bad, so what the fuck do you expect?” 

Katsudon growled throwing his arms up. “You could at least try! There was no reason for your blood sugar and protein levels to be so low-”

“Why should I even bother if I might not even keep it?” He saw Otabek flinch out of the corner of his eye. 

“Because you might! Why don’t you get it, Yuri?” He stomped his foot so hard that the juice in Otabek’s glass on the coffee table rippled. “You might keep this baby and that’s the important part!”

He clenched his jaw, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He felt Otabek’s hand against his back. “Why? Why should I care so much about something I didn’t even ask for?” Otabek’s hand fell away, leaving a spot colder than the surrounding air. 

Katsudon’s face had been steadily getting redder, but started to go pale. He pinched the bridge of his nose, swiping off his glasses. “Okay, I know how scary this is. I know you’re terrified, and stressed out, and confused, but you need to start acting differently. You’re hurting  _ yourself _ , not just the baby.” His voice cracked and Yuri stumbled, falling back into the couch. Hurting… the baby? Otabek grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “And if you’re so intent on saying you don’t know, I suggest you figure it out. You and Otabek need to sit down and talk, like adults. Because, Yuri, if  you end up making yourself sick…” He shook his head. “I know this is asking a lot out of the two of you, but you’re the only ones who can make this choice. Yuri, you could lose the baby, you could end up being hospitalised. And Otabek, you can’t just standby like none of this concerns you.” He exhaled heavily, looking between the two of them, then suddenly spun on his heel and stomped up the stairs.

 

“What do you want to do?” Otabek asked, wringing his hands. It was still light out, but the heavy curtains in the guest room were enough to make it feel like night.

“You can’t just… ask me that,” Yuri mumbled. “I don’t... I can’t make this decision.” 

Otabek swallowed. “I won’t. I’m not asking you to do it on your own. This is both of our problem to deal with, but you’re the one who's carrying the baby; you’re going to be affected more, you’ve already had to do so much more than me. I’ll tell you what I think and how I feel, but you have the final say.” 

Yuri’s eyes stung. “I… I don’t know what to do, Beka.” He wrapped his arms around himself, almost hating that he could feel a hard bulge in his stomach.

The mattress sunk as Otabek shuffled closer to him, wrapping an arm tightly around his shoulders. “Okay, let’s think about this.” He pressed a soft kiss to Yuri’s cheek. “We can talk about both sides.”

Yuri took a deep breath slumping against his chest. Otabek curled around him, resting the side of his cheek to the top of his head. 

“My mom wanted to get an abortion.” He felt Otabek’s shoulders jump. “Deda and my babulya wouldn't let her. They forced her to have me.”

“Yura…” he mumbled. Yuri knew that Otabek didn’t know much about his mother. He never talked about her, and Grandpa had taken down all the pictures with her in them and locked everything she had left behind in the attic. As far as Otabek knew he didn’t have a mother. But he was sure that he had heard enough gossip to know what had happened. “No one’s forcing you to do anything.”

“I know. But, I don’t feel like I should be the one to make this choice. I’m not even legally an adult.”

“Then who should be the one to make it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He hugged him tighter. “Well, I can tell you that no one else is going to fix this for us.”

“I know.” He screwed his eyes shut. “I’m just so fucking scared. What if I choose wrong?” 

“How would that happen?”

“What if I get the abortion and the baby could have turned out to be something really great?” He shook his head. “Like if my mom had gotten rid of me, then I wouldn’t have been able to dance, or met you and Grandpa would have been all alone. But she had me and she hated me, and Babulya died, and Grandpa got sick all because she had a baby she wasn’t ready for.”

Otabek pressed his lips to his forehead, rocking them slowly back and forth. “You’re not your mother. And every situation is different-”

“It’s not really, though.” He took a deep breath. “She used to beat me, you know.” Otabek hissed softly, his entire body tensing before he wrapped every bit of himself around Yuri. “For the littlest things, or if she was angry or drunk - just because she got pregnant at sixteen with a baby she didn’t want. And I’m, I’m not entirely sure that I want this baby and I’m scared that-”

“Yuri, no.” Otabek almost sounded panicked. “You’re not like that. You’re nothing like her.” He was trembling. “You’re strong, and kind, and you would never hurt anything or anyone.”

“But she didn’t want me and I don’t know If I want this baby either-”

“You’re not her.” He swallowed loudly. “But if you… Then what if we get the abortion?” 

Yuri bit his lips, tasting salt. “I don’t think it’s fair. It’s not fair if I don’t give it a chance to even… be. But, Beka, we can’t have a baby. You’re still in school; I’m only seventeen. We wouldn’t be able to take care of it, and your parents would kill us,  _ and  _ I can’t ask Grandpa to go through this again.” He actually felt like he was breaking apart. Bits of him were falling away. 

“You think we can’t?” He asked slowly. 

“You do?” 

“We can try.” 

“Yeah, I know how wrong it can go. I - I don’t want to end up hating my own child.”

“That would never happen, Yura.” 

“I already kind of hate it. I can’t dance anymore, my entire career is on hold, everything I’ve ever worked for could just end.” He felt Otabek shaking his head. “And you, you don’t have time for a kid. Your parents would disown you or cut you off, and I couldn’t live with myself self if I did that to you.” 

“Okay, well. I don’t need my parents, and even if they did cut me off, it wouldn’t be your fault.”

“It would be because of me, because I’m pregnant-”

“ _ I’m _ the one who  _ got you  _ pregnant.”

They were both silent for a few minutes before Otabek sighed softly. “This is just as much my fault as it is yours, so let me take responsibility for some of it.” 

He felt as if he had been braking before, but now everything had just shattered. He tried to hold it back, but even his shoulders began shaking with the force of his sobs. Otabek stroked his hair, holding him as tight as he possibly could.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay.” 

They ended up spending the night, both of them falling asleep in the guest room wrapped around each other. Yuri woke up to the sound of Viktor and Yuuri getting the kids ready for school. Viktor was trying to reason with Nikita that, yes, he had to wear a shirt under his overalls. He sighed softly, waiting for the morning sickness to build. Otabek was already awake it seemed, his arm tightened around Yuri’s waist at his sigh.

“You okay?” he mumbled against Yuri’s neck. 

“Yeah,” Yuri muttered back, rolling over to face him. They had fallen asleep on top of the blankets, both still dressed in jeans. Yuri’s waistband was digging painfully into his stomach and he reached down to undo the button. 

“Should we get up?” Otabek asked, rubbing his eyes. 

“Wait until Viktor is done with Nikitok. He’ll get too excited if he sees us.”

Otabek hummed softly, reaching forward to pull Yuri to his chest. Yuri breathed in deeply, his scent calming and almost lulling him back to sleep. He rested his arm against Otabek’s waist, nuzzling against the side of his neck. Either Otabek fell back asleep with him, or waited for him to get up again, because when next Yuri was blinking it was because a sunbeam hit him right in the face. Groaning his sat up, stretching his arms over his head. 

Otabek was still on his side, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. He looked a bit ruffled, his hair was messy and fluffy, and his clothes were creased from sleeping in them, but Yuri couldn’t hold back a small smile, reaching down to cup his cheek, and run a finger along his jaw. He smiled, lines forming at the corners of his mouth. 

“I love you,” he mumbled, turning his face pre press his lips to Yuri’s palm. “Like this, just waking up together.” 

Yuri’s cheeks heated, as he bent down, pressing his lips to Otabek’s temple. “You’re such a sap.” 

He hooked an arm around his waist, pulling him back down and kissing him fiercely. Yuri giggled, throwing a leg over his thigh, and cupping both his cheeks as they kissed. 

 

Lilia? Yuri tilted head head sideways as he looked at the incoming call on his phone screen. He hadn’t really spoken to her since he had come back to Moscow. He bit his lip, pausing the YouTube video and letting his nail file fall to his bed. 

“Uh, hi?”

“Yurochka?”

“Yes?” His stomach started to bubble, and the sandwich he had eaten earlier was beginning to sit like a rock inside of him. 

“How are you doing?”

“Uh, I’m okay.”

There was a short pause. “The reason I’m calling, have you decided when you're coming back yet?” 

Yuri drew in a sharp breath, his entire body going cold. “Uh, I...” he trailed off, his voice leaving him.

She hummed softly, and Yuri looked down at his lap, picking at a discoloured spot his sweatpants. “I don’t mean to rush you. But we’re doing a competition in seven months’ time, and I need to know if you’ll be a part of it or not.” 

“Oh.” it was suddenly hard to breathe. “I… would I be able to? I mean with my ankle.” 

“Treatment can be concurrent with rehearsal. We would just have to be careful not to take it too far. Didn’t the physiotherapist say it wouldn't take too long to build up muscle strength?”

“I guess. Seven months?” 

“Yes, Yurochka.”

He swallowed again. “I…” he shook his head even though she couldn’t see him.

“I’ll be needing an answer soon. You can at least be a substitute if you don’t make it back in time.” 

“I… I don’t know when…I don’t know if I can do this one. Sorry, Lilia.” 

There was another short pause. “You still do not know if you’re keeping the baby?”

“...No.” His cheeks heated, while his fingers went cold.

“I see. How far along are you now?”

“Twelve weeks.”

“If you’re still considering an abortion, it should be done soon.” 

“I… I know.” He tried to breathe, but nothing happened. 

She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Well, I trust you know the consequences of each decision. I’ll be awaiting your answer.”

“Yeah.”

“And, Yurochka, please take care of yourself.”

When he hung up he took a shaky breath through his mouth, the room was spinning and he felt like he was going to throw up again. He flopped onto his side, grabbing a pillow and pulling it to his chest. Of course everything in Saint Petersburg would go on without him. Lilia had a company to run - she wouldn’t wait on him. He tasted bile in his mouth and swallowed, biting his lip until it hurt. Nothing would wait on him. Not even the baby; it just kept on growing and growing and soon he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

He screwed his eyes shut, curling around his pillow. Lilia needed an answer; he didn’t have one yet. He wanted to go back to Saint Petersburg; he wanted to go back to dancing. And if he walked into an abortion clinic tomorrow he could probably go back to his real life the next day. He’d be able to do the competition, get his ankle treated, and just go back to fucking living. There weren’t many consequences there. So, why the fuck was it so hard to make the call? He wanted to dance, he wanted to compete, to get back to his career and what he had spent his entire life preparing for. He couldn’t do that with a baby. It made the most sense for him to get an abortion, right? Grandpa wouldn’t have to deal with another one of his mistakes, Otabek wouldn’t be disowned. And what the fuck, he couldn’t take care of a baby. And neither could Otabek, no matter what he said. It made sense. So, why they fuck was he shaking? Why was his stomach trembling, and his vision going grey? 

“Yurochka?” There was a soft knock on his door, but Grandpa opened it before he could answer. “Oh, you’re sleeping-”

“No, I’m up.” He sat up, but the movement was accompanied by a fresh wave of nausea. He covered his mouth with his palm and groaned. 

“Beka is here.” He paused coming further into the room. “Are you okay? Why don’t you ask him to spend the night here instead?” 

“I’m fine, Deda.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You look a little pale.”

“I am pale.”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I’m fine.” he took a deep breath through his mouth, swallowing and hopping the nausea would leave on it’s own. Grandpa sighed softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and reaching over to squeeze Yuri’s knee. “Where’s Beka?”

“Bathroom.”

Yuri sighed, his shoulders heaving and he curled up next to Grandpa, resting his cheek against his shoulder. “Lilia just called,” he mumbled. Grandpa raised an eyebrow. “She wanted to know when I’m coming back.” There was a heavy silence. “Deda? You think abortions are wrong, right?”

He hesitated, an almost pained expression crossing his face and his hand tightened on Yuri’s knee. “It doesn't matter if it’s wrong or not-”

“That’s not the answer to my question.” 

He sighed through his nose. “I miss the days when I could just pinch your nose to distract you.” he bumped Yuri’s nose with one of his swollen knuckles. Yuri scoffed, gently batting his hand away. “My opinion isn’t important, Yurochka. I want this decision to be 100 percent yours.”

“ _ Deda… _ ” he huffed in annoyance, pulling away from him. 

Grandpa gave in pretty quickly. “I’m not  _ for _ it. But I will stand behind you if that’s what you choose.” 

Yuri swallowed. “I think I might… want one.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Don’t rush anything.”

“I’m not. I… well it’s just that. Things are still moving so fast in Saint Petersburg and I can’t afford to take off time like this. And… I can’t take care of a kid and neither can Beka.”

He hummed softly. “You won’t have to take care of a baby by yourself. No one expects that of either of you.”

Yuri huffed. “So how will that work when I have to go back to Saint Petersburg? Will I leave it here? For you? For  _ Beka _ ?” 

“I…” he ended in a soft huff, shaking his head.

“It’s the most logical choice.” 

Grandpa was silent for a few minutes before getting up and leaning over to press a soft kiss to Yuri’s forehead. “I can tell you now, that none of this relies solely on logic.” 

“What?” He frowned.

“Take your time and really think. If this is what you want then that’s perfectly fine. But think.” 

“I am thinking,” he grumbled staring at his lap; his stomach still churning bile around. When he looked up Grandpa was at the door brushing past Otabek as he entered. 

“Are you ready to go?” Otabek asked. 

Yuri sighed, slowly getting to his feet. “Yeah.”

“Grandpa said you weren’t feeling well today are you sure-”

“I would have been fine if someone didn’t ditch me to run fucking errands.”

Otabek rolled his eyes, but held out his arms for Yuri to slip up against him. “You would have been bored out of your mind. I spent three hours at student services just waiting to see my advisor.” He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, bending slightly to nuzzle the hollow behind his ear.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. At least here you have YouTube and your bed.”

“True.” 

He scoffed, striaghtening to press a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s get going; I don’t want to be out when it gets dark.” 

“We’ve ridden your bike at night before.”

He squirmed slightly. “Not like this.”

Yuri huffed. Right. Like  _this_. 

 

Yuri stared at the blank screen of his web browser. Everyone was on him not to make any rash decisions. To think about it, to consider both sides. He was a bit in over his head, he’d admit that he didn’t know anything about babies. He was only eleven when Nikita was born, and when Amaya came four years later, he was busy with trying to get Lilia’s attention. He adjusted his legs under the sheets, crossing one ankle over the other. Well, he wasn’t  the first person to be getting an abortion. His stomach tightened painfully as he typed the word into the search bar. He got results for nearby abortion clinics, he didn’t need that. He scrolled further down reading a bunch of definitions, and skipping past the Wikipedia article. There were a few news articles, but he wasn’t interested in reading those. He tried searching again. ‘Getting an abortion’ his fingers were actually shaking and his stomach was so sight it felt like it was curling around a knife. He didn’t need a ‘what to expect’  or how to prepare. God, he needed help. Wasn’t there like an instruction manual on how the hell he was supposed to decide? Wasn’t there like a checklist to see if an abortion was the right choice? 

He groaned, closing the browser, before opening it back up again right away. He took a deep breath, and retyped his search. Grandpa had told him to think about it, Katsudon had told him to think about it and so did Lilia and the doctor. And okay, it wasn’t an easy choice, but he needed some fucking help. Maybe from someone else who had an abortion? Could he search for a blog or something? Literally hundreds came up. 

‘What I wish someone had told me...’.

He clicked on that one, feeling his heart beating in his throat. And he read half before he had to click away, his eyes watering and his throat tight. Fuck. Some people had it even worse than him. Shit, at least he had Grandpa and Otabek. He rubbed at his eyes sniffing. He knew it was going to be hard, he knew that there were so many people against it, but fuck, did they really made you listen to the baby’s heartbeat before? Was that some kind of sick joke? He felt like an ice cube was stuck in his throat. The next blog post wasn’t any better, it had taken the poor girl months before she started to feel like herself afterwards. She had dreamt of her baby almost every night since. She cried for weeks. Someone else had said how they felt empty in both senses, how it took awhile for everything to even register, and how alone they felt. But everyone, somehow, for some reason, even if they knew that an abortion was the right decision for them, was always left wondering what would have happened if they kept their baby.

Fuck, was this really the right choice? 

It felt like his hands were moving on their own. The more he read, the more videos he watched, the further away the computer screen seemed. A few sites explained what was going to happen, and with each word, a little more of the room disappeared from around him, until it was just him and the computer. There was a list of the types of abortions - fucking  _ types _ ; he was too late for a non-surgical abortion and, fuck, he wished he had known this sooner. If he hadn’t been so scared, if he just stopped for a moment and fucking  _ thought _ . All the other options had a dark shadow creeping up his spine, grabbing hold of his ribs and squeezing. Vacuum aspiration, dilation and evacuation,  _ labour induction, _ he wasn’t breathing any more. He couldn’t breathe, he let his hand fall to his stomach, that tiny bump, his  _ baby _ . His baby that he  _ couldn’t  _ have. His eyes were prickling. He yanked his hand away and kept on reading. His skin felt like it was shrinking, while his stomach bubbled and his throat went dry. But he ignored the slight swaying of the computer screen that made the lines jump into each other. 

‘Dilation and Extraction or D and X, is performed in weeks thirteen to twenty-one/twenty-two of pregnancy… often referred to as a partial birth abortion. This type of abortion is illegal except when necessary to save the life of the mother...always performed in a hospital, and can be done in rare cases, after sixteen weeks. The doctor opens the cervix, grasps the unborn child’s foot with an instrument and delivers the child completely, with the exception of the head.' Yuri tasted bile at the back of his throat but he couldn't stop reading. His breath was coming out in short gasps and he just felt so fucking _sick_. 'An incision is made in the back of the child’s head, and a suction tube is inserted. The child’s skull is fully suctioned out, allowing the head to collapse. The child is then delivered dead.’ God. How could he feel like he was falling when he was sitting down? He had to clamp a hand to his mouth as he gagged. How could… the tears came hard and fast. God, just how was he even supposed to? He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be pregnant, but he didn’t want  _ this _ . He couldn’t walk into the abortion clinic and walk out with a dead baby. His ears were ringing, his vision had turned in a grey tunnel, and everything was shaking.

He felt like he was at the bottom of a pit, looking up at the sky, and reaching for it, but falling deeper into the ground instead. He couldn’t breathe, not through his choking sobs, not hunched over as he was holding his stomach, trying hard not to retch. 

He couldn’t do it. He curled around his stomach, holding it with both hands, and cried until he started to dry heave. He couldn't do it. He couldn’t do that to his baby. He couldn’t get rid of it then spend the rest of his life wondering what it would have been like. 

“Yura? Why are you crying?” Otabek scrambled into the bedroom, his glasses falling off his nose. “What’s wrong?” he was on the bed in a matter of seconds, taking the laptop from Yuri’s lap and pulling him against his chest. “Shhh,” he mumbled, holding him tightly and rubbing small circles against his back. “It’s okay. It’s okay, baby.” 

Yuri shook his head, clutching the front of Otabek’s shirt. “I can’t do it,” he coughed. “I can’t.”

“Can’t do what?” 

“I can’t get an abortion. I can’t kill my baby.”

Otabek’s arms tightened around him and he made soft soothing noises. “Shhhh, okay, okay.” He pulled Yuri onto his lap, smoothing his hair away from his face. “You don’t have to.” 

Yuri sniffled. “But I should-”

“No-”

“I should. I don’t know anything about babies. I can’t ask you to give up so much either. I haven’t even graduated highschool, you’re still in university. I can’t dance anymore-”

“No, shhh, that doesn’t matter-”

“Yes it does! It does!” his voice broke, and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands. “It does, and it’s the smart thing to do, but I can’t do it, Beka.” 

“Okay,” he felt lips against his forehead. “Okay.” 

Otabek obviously didn’t know what to say, but he held him. Held him until he stopped shaking and his sobs turned into silent tears. He pressed his lips to Yuri’s forehead and nose, and wiped his cheeks with his thumbs. Yuri pressed his cheek against his chest, settling against him while he still held his stomach. He couldn’t feel the bump with the way his back was curved, but he smoothed his hands across it anyway. He turned his face to nuzzle against Otabek’s collar bone. His nose was still too clogged to smell anything, but he knew how he must have smelled of soap, mild spices, and a tinge of salt. Tiny fresh tears sprung to his eyes. 

“Beka, I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m asking you to do so much-”

“He hummed. Don’t worry about me. If you don’t think you can do it then, no one is going to force you.”

“We can’t take care of a baby.” 

“We can try.”

“Trying isn’t good enough! I don’t want…” he swallowed. “I don’t want the chance that something could go wrong.”

“I… what do you mean.” 

“Cause if we try and we fail, and I end up hating you or the baby-”

“That will never happen-”

“It can! I always asked myself what I did for my mother to hate me so much. And I didn’t do anything, I was born! But she was stressed and tired, she and Grandpa always fought and things were so bad. I don’t want that to happen to us, I don’t want our baby to cause us to fight.”

“Yura, you’re not your mom.”

“It can still happen! You don’t get it-”

“We won’t let it happen! Look, your mom didn’t have your dad to help her. She didn’t have Viktor or Katsudon. And Grandpa was a different person back then, he’s changed. He’s going to help you. He loves you so much Yura.” 

Yuri bit his lip, sniffling. “I’m scared.” 

“It is scary. But we’re going to make this work. If you don’t want to get an abortion then we’ll  _ make it work _ .”

He seemed so sure of it. Yuri swallowed, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s neck. 

“We’ll make it work. I’m going to take care of the both of you. No matter what it takes.” His voice was firm, his entire body was firm, yet comforting - big and warm. The hands on his back were large and heavy, and the arms around him were like steel. And even when Yuri started to cry again he didn’t shake. 

 

“Yuri!” he heard Nikita before he saw him and turned around just in time for the six-year-old to launch himself at his stomach.

“Nikita be careful!” Viktor yelled after him, going pale when he saw them collide. 

“It’s fine, Viktor,” Yuri called, stroking Nikita’s hair as he wrapped his arms around his legs. “He wasn’t going that fast. You little  _ monkey _ ,” he grabbed the boy under his armpits and hoisted him into the air. Nikita squealed in glee. “You need to stop running indoors.” 

He giggled, throwing his arms around Yuri’s neck. “We did reading at school today! I did a six letter word!” 

“Really?” He couldn't help but smile. “That’s so cool! Which word was it?”

“Ummm,” he paused. “I forget.” 

“You forgot?”

“And we got to practice letters and I -” he cut himself off and Yuri felt him go stiff. 

He turned around to see Otabek leaning against the wall, watching them with a small smile.

“You didn’t say hi to Uncle Beka,” Yuri scolded. 

Nikita twisted in his arms, staring at Otabek with wide eyes. “Hi.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, stooping down to set him back on his feet. “Go wash up, you’re all stinky from school. Yuck.” He pinched his nose, and fanned his face, pretending to be disgusted. 

Nikita scrunched up his face, but giggled as he dashed off. Viktor came in a little while later, holding Nikita's school bag in one hand and a sleeping Amaya in the other. His hair was a bit ruffled, but he was smiling as he watched Nikita scramble upstairs. 

“Yuuri should be home soon.” he whispered. “You two can make yourself at home, but I don't really need to tell _you_ that.” he smiled, eyeing Otabek.

Yuri glanced to Otabek. Otabek looked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and crossing his legs at the ankle. Yuri knew he was still a bit nervous around Viktor even though he knew he was welcome here.

Yuri grabbed Otabek’s hand as Viktor slowly went upstairs. 

“So, How do we say this?” Yuri mumbled pulling him up to the marble island in the centre of the kitchen. 

Otabek shrugged. “Just tell them, I guess.”

Yuri bit the inside of his cheek and ended up sighing as he cross his ankles and slid up closer to Otabek. He was biting his lip, eyes darting around the room. He nudged his thigh with his foot. “Hey, babe. I’m not really nervous about this, and talking with Katsudon usually helps. I mean... ”

“I know.” there was a short pause as the both stared at their hands, leaning against the island. “I didn’t realise you were that good with Nikita.”

Yuri blinked. “Huh?” 

“I mean, I can see why he’s obsessed with you now.”

“He just has good taste.” 

He huffed a short laugh, reaching out to run his fingers along Yuri’s forearm. “I just… I mean, if we do keep the baby, I just… I know this is not a good time for either of us, but, I’m not against,” he sighed, tugging at his ear lobe. After Yuri had broken down crying a few nights ago they had kind of skirted around the topic. Yuri honestly didn’t think he could go through with an abortion, but he still wasn’t completely sure that they could take care of a baby, especially not how they were now.

Yuri leaned against him pressing their thighs together. “It’s okay, Beka. Say what you’re thinking.” 

He swallowed, sighing again and letting his shoulders slump. “Neither of us are ready  for this, but I had always thought of starting a family with you and if… if we choose that, I would be more than happy to - to…” he trailed off, but Yuri surged forward, capturing his lips. 

He drew in a sharp breath, nearly tumbling backwards. “Yura,” he breathed, between kisses. “I love you.” 

Yuri brushed his hair from his forehead, his cheeks heating as he stared into Otabek’s dark eyes. He kissed the tip of his nose, then both corners of his mouth. Otabek’s hands came up, settling on his hips and squeezing gently. 

“I still want to think about this a bit more,” he mumbled. “I just… I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “I wasn’t… that’s just what I thought.”

“I know, babe.” He grazed his fingertips along his undercut, leaning in for another soft kiss. 

 

“Well, there’s always adoption,” Katsudon suggested softly. Viktor had driven everyone over to Grandpa's, and they sat around the living room, on the scratchy, old couches with cups of tea, and a tray of butter cookies on the coffee table. 

Yuri felt his breath catch, as Otabek tensed beside him. It was just for a second, but it was enough. “I don’t think…” he swallowed. 

“You don’t have to say yes or no,” he went on. “That’s just an option for when the time comes. But yeah, like Viktor said. We’ll help you as much as we can.”

Yuri took a deep breath, pressing himself tighter against Otabek’s side. “I don’t… this isn’t your responsibility-”

“It isn’t our responsibility to take care of our godchild?” Viktor asked tilting his head to the side.

“Godchild?” Yuri repeated. 

Grandpa rubbed the bridge of his nose, but Yuri heard him chuckling softly from Otabek’s other side. 

“I was wondering when you’d ask! Of course, we’d be happy to be godparents.” He settled back into the loveseat, throwing a hand over Katsudon’s shoulder and grinning.

Yuri felt a bit winded; he barely even noticed when Otabek began rubbing his side. 

“So it’s safe to say that an abortion is off the table?” Katsudon asked, leaning against Viktor’s side. 

Yuri nodded, only pausing to look up at Otabek. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I… I don’t think I can go through with it.” Otabek squeezed his hip. “I… I want to give this baby a chance. Like I got a chance, so I should, like, pass it on, right?” Grandpa sniffled softly. “I mean, I’m still kinda scared-”

“That’s perfectly normal,” Katsudon assured him. 

“And I’ll have to call Lilia and tell her that I’ll can’t come back.” He tugged at a lock of his hair. “I mean, I guess I could focus on finishing high school, then maybe I can find a job or something and-”

“Hold up,” Katsudon stopped him, frowning. “You still want to dance, right?”

He swallowed, knowing that Otabek could feel him trembling. “Yeah.”

“Then you’ll start back dancing as soon as you can.” 

“But I can’t go back to Saint Petersburg. I have to give up my scholarship.”

He clicked his tongue. “Lilia doesn’t have the only dance company in Russia. And with as many disciplines you’ve studied I’m sure you could even get into  _ the Bolshoi _ .” Yuri scoffed.  _ Right _ . “Okay, but let’s think about that later. I’m glad you're thinking ahead, but not everything is the worst-case scenario.” 

Otabek turned to him. “You were thinking about giving up  _ dancing _ ?”

Yuri bit his lip and nodded. Otabek blinked slowly, a slightly pained expression crossed his face before he shook it away. 

 

“We never played house,” Yuri said, laying on his back, pressed against the wall on his tiny, twin bed with Otabek curled up against his side. Viktor and Katsudon had left to relieve the baby sitter a few hours ago, but after Yuri had gotten up to help clear away everybody’s plates and empty tea cups and had nearly fallen over, hit with a sudden dizzy spell, they had all decided that it was best to end the evening. The dizziness was new; it didn’t happen often and mostly when he was tired. It had been a long evening. Grandpa had sent him upstairs, and even though he had really want to take a shower, he tumbled into bed only taking off his pants and closed his eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning. 

“Hmmm?” Otabek hummed, propping his head up on his palm. His hair was flattened on one side of his head and he looked as tired as Yuri felt. Yeah, it had been a long evening, a long week actually. 

“House. You know, like, I’d be the mom you’d be the dad and we’d have made a stuff toy our baby. We never did that.” He drew a lazy, line along Otabek’s bicep with his index fingernail. He was getting tired of looking at the dark purple, maybe gold would be more fun this time. 

Otabek blushed slightly. “I guess not. We were too busy with zoos, and being explorers discovering uncharted lands and saving endangered animals.”

Yuri chuckled, moving down his arm to grab his hand, and twined their fingers together. “I was never into the whole baby doll thing anyway.”

Otabek squeezed his hand. “You liked brushing their hair, though.” 

“Well, yeah,” he yawned. “It was relaxing.” 

It had been. He’d also liked brushing Viktor’s hair when he used to keep it long. It was something about feeling the way it felt smooth against his fingers or the way the brush gilded through. He had learnt how to braid pretty early on too, and had an arsenal of styles ready for Amaya when her hair grew long enough. 

They fell into silence and Yuri felt a strange sort of calm fall over him, making him feel all fuzzy at the edges. And although he still felt the slightest bit dizzy if he moved too quickly, he rolled onto his side, snuggling against Otabek’s chest. Otabek wrapped his arm around his waist, nosing his cheek and forehead. 

“So, we’re really doing this, huh?” Yuri mumbled. “We’re having a baby.” 

Otabek’s mouth stretched into a small grin, and he kissed the top of Yuri’s head. “Yeah. We are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tough stuff. So, this chapter was difficult for me to write, because of Yuri's thought process and I honestly didn't want to get too much into the whole pro-life/pro-choice debate and have my feelings on the matter seep into the fic. So, trying to figure out a way for Yuri to come to the decision on his own was challenging to say the least. I also don't want to gloss over a topic so hard and painful, but honestly doing this research was difficult, and I can only hope that I did it justice. 
> 
> Also, the chapter got way too long because what I had originally planned wasn't working out, and I had to split it into two parts - hence the new chapter count.  
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> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **April 13th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> -Sexual Contennt

Yuri woke up with a loud gasp, kicking the sheets away but only succeeding in getting his feet tangled up. He sat up straight, covering his mouth as his stomach lurched. Both Katsudon and the doctor had said the morning sickness should have eased up by now, but he was still nauseated all the time. Right as he woke up to just before he fell asleep. 

“Yura?” Otabek mumbled sleepily from beside him, but jolted awake when he heard him gag. He sat up, his hand bumping against Yuri’s back as he went to squeeze his shoulder in comfort. 

Yuri shrugged his hand away, slipping from the bed. He bumped his way across the dark room to the bathroom and flipped on the light, nearly blinding himself. He didn’t know if he actually had to vomit, but he would rather be in the bathroom. He braced himself against the wall, screwing his eyes shut as his mouth filled with saliva and his stomach jumped to his throat. This was getting old fast. He swallowed thickly, and took a few deep breaths. They echoed around the bathroom.

“Goddamnit, baby,” he mumbled, crossing an arm over his stomach. “Just settle the fuck down.” 

He heard snickering from the doorway and cracked an eye open. Otabek was leaning against the doorway, squinting into the bright room. 

“This isn’t funny,” he grumbled. 

“I’m not laughing at you.”

He grumbled, taking a few more deep, steadying breaths and straightening, still holding his stomach. “I want tea.” 

Otabek hummed as he left, his footsteps heavy with sleep. The worst of the nausea passed in a few minutes, and he felt a bit better after drinking some water from the sink. He shuffled back into bed, groaning; he missed the days when his body didn’t hate him. It was barely five and this was the first time morning sickness had actually woken him up. He slid underneath the comforter; the nausea waking him up was a bit weird actually. He’d been more sick than this before, sick enough to vomit until he thought his entire stomach was going to come up as well. He hadn’t even thrown up this time. His spine tingled slightly, and he sat back up; had he been dreaming about something? He looked down to his stomach; Otabek’s white undershirt nearly swallowed him, but the back of his neck prickled as he rested a hand to his stomach. His brain scrambled sluggishly as he tried to recall what he’d been dreaming about. 

“Was it about you?” he asked aloud, patting his stomach. Something told him that he was right. 

Otabek came back into the room just then, yawning and scratching his bare stomach with one hand and holding Yuri’s tea in the other.

“Feeling better?” he asked, crawling back into bed.

Yuri grabbed for the mug and Otabek handed it over after he settled. He took a sip immediately, expecting to scald his tongue, but it wasn’t that hot - a comfortable warm instead. God, he really didn’t deserve this man. 

“Yeah, I think I had a weird dream, though,” he answered after he swallowed. Otabek hummed, settling on his back and watching Yuri with heavy lidded eyes. “I think it was about the baby.” 

He stroked his stomach with his free hand, slurping more of his tea. He was thirteen weeks now, almost fourteen, and there was no denying that he had a bump. It fit into the curve of his palm and he knew that the baby was still impossibly tiny, but he was past looking bloated now. He took in a big gulp of tea, sighing in relief as the ginger spread warmth throughout his stomach and chest.

Otabek rolled against him, pressing his body to his thigh. “What happened in your dream?” his voice was slurred. 

Yuri wrinkled his nose as he tried to remember. He rested his bottom lip against the rim of his mug, letting the spicy steam warm his face. Nothing came and he sighed, taking a long sip. “I can’t remember, just that it was abut the baby - and you were there, I think.”

He turned his face, smiling widely and bumped his forehead against Yuri’s hip. Yuri wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. 

 

“You’re doing a new song?” Yuri asked, poking his head into Otabek’s studio. 

He jumped, his fingers slipping along the keyboard and hitting like ten wrong notes. “Yura,” he gasped spinning around. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were wide like Yuri had caught him doing something wrong. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He had finally given Yuri a spare key the other day, and while they didn’t exactly know what was going to happen, there was a high chance that they would end up living together. He’d been living been Otabek’s and Grandpa’s place for years now anyway. 

“Is that a new song?” he repeated, slipping into the room and pulling up a spare stool to sit next to him.

Otabek scratched the back of his neck, looking off to the side. “Yeah. How was Grandpa? Did you get everything you needed-”

“Can I hear it? What’s it for?” 

Otabek’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I, uh…” He took a deep breath. “My advisor recommended that I enter this competition. The submission deadline is in two days-”

“Oh shit,” he eyed the keyboard and Otabek’s computer screen where sound bars were bouncing up and down in time with their voices. “So, it’s mostly done right?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I mean, I already had an idea of what I wanted to do. But it’s a competition, I might not even win.”

Yuri huffed, slipping from his stool. So, that’s what Otabek had been doing spending so many late nights holed up in here. There had been a couple where he didn’t even remember him coming to bed at all. It happened quite often that he just got the urge to write a song and the world was dead to him until he finished. 

“Then the judges don’t know a keyboard from their own assholes. Can I hear it?” 

Otabek hesitated for a long moment before his face and ears lit up in flames. “Don't’ laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

He stared at his feet for long enough for Yuri to think he hadn’t heard him. “It’s about you.”

Yuri blinked a few times, Otabek’s words settling in his stomach. He held his breath as he leaned over to cup Otabek’s jaw, gently forcing him to look up at him. He searched his face for what, he didn’t quite know, but his chest was suddenly tight with fireflies bumbling around inside and setting everything on fire. He didn’t waste any time in pressing his lips to Otabek’s, climbing onto his lap when his hands came up to tangle in his hair. 

“I fucking love you so much,” he mumbled against the corner of Otabek’s mouth. Otabek’s throat bobbed again and he sighed, breath hot against Yuri’s cheek.  He joined their mouths together again, softly nipping on Yuri’s bottom lip. 

He knew that Otabek had written songs about him before; he wrote about a lot of things, though. But to write a song about him for a  _ competition _ , that was something new. He knew the amount of things he had to have rolling around like a tsunami in his head. They baby being at the front, of course. Fuck, he loved him so much. To translate all of this chaos into music, music that he thought was good enough to share with whoever was hosting the competition. Yuri felt so hot that he could have fainted and he wound his arms around Otabek’s neck. Honestly, to have him do all this just for  _ him _ , was enough to set him on fire - a fire starting in his belly. 

“I know you’re on a tight deadline,” Yuri mumbled between kisses. “But I want you so badly right now.” He drew back to bite his bottom lip; it already felt raw. 

Otabek breathed out slowly from his stomach, and there was only a flash of hesitation before he fiercely rejoined their mouths. “I can manage a break.” He trailed his fingers through Yuri’s hair, letting a lock fall against his shoulder as he moved to cup his jaw.

They tumbled into bed minutes later, mouths still joined and limbs wrapped around each other. Otabek didn’t even bother to pull back the sheets as he hovered over Yuri, kissing him like a lifeline. Yuri tugged at them hem of his shirt, nails scratching against the small of his back. He felt him shiver and he smiled into the kiss. Still grinning, Yuri trailed his hands up Otabek’s back, bringing his shirt with him. Otabek sighed deep in the back of his throat and ripped his shirt off, only pausing the kiss for a second. 

“Impatient,” Yuri giggled, watching him toss it irritably to the side. 

“Very.” He was kissing down his neck, his tongue occasionally flicking out to lap at his skin. 

Yuri palmed his now bare back before tugging at his pants. He was still in his pyjama bottoms, and that’s how Yuri knew he had been in his studio all day. He tugged them down his hips, before he felt him start to grumble against his neck. 

“You’re going to get me naked even before you even take off your shirt.”

Yuri grinned, leaning up to and kissing his chin. He tired again, this time successfully getting his mouth. Their lips parted with a wet pop. “Yes, please,” he giggled, tugging at his pants again. 

Otabek sighed heavily, sitting back on his heels. He hadn't really stopped blushing since they had started, but the red began to deepen on his ears and cheeks. He swallowed thickly, swollen lips parted slightly, and he hesitated until Yuri sat up, wiggling out from under him and placed a palm to his chest. He leaned in close, kissing the corner of his mouth before moving down his jaw, to his ear. He nosed the hollow behind his ear for a few seconds before kissing down the side of his neck then back up to settle against his pulse, gently nipping and lapping. He could feel his heartbeat quicken under his tongue, every shallow breath that he pushed from his lungs, and every time he swallowed. 

He began to squirm after a few moments, but Yuri kept it up, only adjusting the angle of his mouth and letting his eyes flutter shut. It took him another moment to realise that Otabek was taking his pants off after all, he paused, sitting back as Otabek kneeled awkwardly in the centre of the bed, curling around himself slightly. Yuri stared openly, biting his bottom lip as his mouth and throat went dry. His stomach was moving with each breath, and Yuri could make out the slightest bit of muscle definition under his soft middle. The gym was probably the last thing on his mind right now, but Yuri still had to struggle to find his breath as he ghosted his fingertips along the light, fuzzy hair that lead from his navel down. 

Honestly, Otabek would probably die of heart failure if Yuri just grabbed his dick, no matter how much it was begging to be touched, standing thick and proud, curving up to his stomach. So, he stopped right above, massaging his fingertips into the skin under the short coarse hairs. Otabek was trembling so badly Yuri thought he was going to shatter, so he drew back his hand, and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, over his racing heart, and turned his eyes back to his face.He was blushing down to his chest, hands twitching to cover himself. Yuri jolted forward, grabbing Otabek’s wrists and pinning them to his sides. 

“You’re so fucking amazing,” he mumbled, it came out as a rough whisper as he pressed another series of kisses up the side of his neck.  There was molten lava in his stomach and everything below just felt so tight and wet. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Well, it wasn’t like he had given him much of a choice, he thought bitterly; he had gotten pregnant. Otabek coughed, wiggling his arms until Yuri let go. He set his hands against his hips, squeezing lightly before moving upwards, pressing his palms against his ribs. 

“Or, the other way around.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, pressing their chests together as he kissed him again. 

 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Otabek asked for the seventh time. 

He was just being cautious Yuri reminded himself. But cautious was the last thing he needed when Otabek was literally balls-deep inside of him. “It’s fine,” he grunted, biting the side of his fist. He wrapped his legs around Otabek’s hips trying to get him to fucking move.

“I feel like I’m crushing you.”

“You’re  _ not  _ crushing me.”

He didn’t seem convinced, looking down at Yuri with wide eyes and a slight frown. Yuri huffed, rolling his eyes and pushing on his chest, until he was sitting back on his heels. 

“Fine, get up.” He had to hold back a frustrated moan as Otabek slid out of him. But if he was convinced that he was going to hurt him, hurt they baby, nothing was going to happen. And he fucking needed something to happen. He got onto his hands and knees, pushing his ass back against Otabek’s groin, eyes nearly rolling into his skull when his cock slid between his cheeks. It was with more than a little satisfaction he grinned when Otabek’s moan sounded almost pained. 

“There,” he hissed, rolling his hips, letting Otabek’s cock slide up and down his slick crease. “You can’t crush me this way.” 

Otabek was on him within seconds. Teeth against the back of his neck, palms hot against his back and sides. Yuri held his breath when he pushed in for the second time, his eyes nearly crossing in pleasure. He knew that Otabek liked to look at his face while they were fucking, but if he was being paranoid about hurting the baby, he’d have to make do with this. Yuri’s jaw went slack and he let out a shaky moan as Otabek slid in deep. He pushed his hips back begging for more and Otabek peppered his back with kisses. One of his hands snaked around Yuri’s waist to gently caress his stomach, as he bottomed out. 

With a heaving breath, Yuri looked over his shoulder to see Otabek pressing his forehead to the centre of his spine, as he smoothed his thumb around Yuri’s navel. He always did wait a moment for Yuri to adjust to having him inside of him before he starting moving, but this was something different. Yuri rolled his hips, causing the both of them to moan loudly. 

“Beka,” he hissed, the muscles in his ass contracting of their own accord. It was hard to talk with a loose jaw. He swallowed, but everything was tingling. “Beka, please-”

“You’re having my baby,” he choked out. Yuri’s breath hitched. “My baby.” 

He swallowed with difficulty, covering the hand Otabek had on his stomach with his own. “Yeah,” he moaned. “Our baby.”

“I love you so much, Yura.” 

He felt lips on the side of his neck, and he tilted his head to give him more room to work on, and gathered his hair over the opposite shoulder. He moaned again as Otabek twitched inside of him, drawing back only slightly, before pushing in even deeper. Shit, he dropped his head, letting it hang between his shoulders as a broken moan was forced from his lips. When he finally began to move in earnest, Yuri swore his saw stars. 

 

Yuri really wasn’t in the mood to go out that day, but Katsudon had been nice enough to take the day off, _again_ , to help him. The morning sickness had been slowly getting better and he was having more and more days where he didn’t feel nauseated at all, but now his stomach was cramping and left him with a sore, achy feeling that stretched from his navel to his spine. 

“Don’t worry, that’s normal,” Katsudon assured him, with a small smile. “It’s just your muscles and ligaments stretching.”

“So it’s only going to get worse?” he groaned. 

“Up until a point.”

“And then what? The baby comes out?”

He chuckled softly, glancing to Yuri briefly then back to the road. “Not exactly. So the Evropeyskiy Shopping Mall, has a few stores that we could try out but if you don’t find anything we can go to-.”

“Evropeyskiy is fine. If I don’t find anything there I’m going home.”

He chuckled again. Yuri grumbled, but since almost all of his jeans were beginning to hurt when he buttoned them, it was probably a good idea to start wearing something else. He didn’t want to stretch out all of his leggings, and wearing Otabek’s sweatpants out of the house wasn’t even in the question. 

Katsudon reached over to squeeze his knee. “Sorry, none of my old clothes fit you.” They had tried but Katsudon was considerably taller and a bit wider. He still had a few pairs of pants that would maybe fit Yuri later on but, for now, he needed new clothes. He tugged at the hem of his dress, pulling it further down his thighs. It was mid-August and still pretty hot, dresses were okay now, but Yuri knew that the weather would change very quickly. 

The baby store almost made Yuri sick with all the gross pastel pinks and blues everywhere, like those were the only two colours in the world. He honestly didn’t even want to look at the baby stuff right now, as an unexpected itch raced up his spine and down his arms. Okay, just how the fuck was he even supposed to do this? He couldn’t take care of an actual baby, buy it clothes and diapers and bottles. He braced himself on the edge of the table glaring at a pink onsie with a yellow daisy pattern. Oh God, what had he been thinking? He bit his lip closing his eyes for a second. Fuck, just fuck. He couldn’t do this-

“Yuri?” Katsudon’s hand was heavy against his shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down for a while?” 

Yuri swallowed, opening his eyes to force a glare. “I’m fine. The sooner we get out of this fucking store the better.”

Katsudon sighed softly, adjusting his glasses. “Alright.” He steered him towards the maternity section and Yuri nearly ran straight into a very pregnant mannequin. Katsudon chuckled, pulling him back before he could actually make contact. “So, right now I think a couple pairs of pants are all you really need.”

He eyed the frilly, flowery shirts hanging on the racks. “Does being pregnant mean you lose your fashion sense? I hate everything in here.”

“You don’t have to pick the things with flowers you know.”

“Yeah, but there’s so much of it.”

He pulled Yuri into a tight side-hug. “Hey, there’s no need to be overwhelmed-”

“Excuse me, do you need any help?”

They both spun around to see a bubbly looking store clerk with round, pink cheeks and a wide smile. Yuri suddenly felt ten times more exhausted. Katsudon’s entire face brightened, however, and Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Uh, yes,” he answered just as brightly. “We’re just here for a few pants, some jeans preferably.”

She nodded. “Starting off small?”

“Yeah, we just want to try out a few things and see how it goes. And I already have an entire wardrobe from a few years ago.” 

God, why was he telling her his entire history? Did he want to offer up his medical history  too? He folded his arms across his chest. Ugh, they didn’t even need help, all she had to do was point them in the direction of the jeans-

“Oh, this isn’t your first?”

Katsudon’s smile dropped and his eyes flickered towards Yuri. Well, this was just fucking great. “I’m… I’m not the one… who’s pregnant.” 

The clerk actually recoiled when she looked at him; her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose up her forehead. Shock flashed across her eyes, followed by a look that had Yuri’s stomach turning and had his brain boiling red.  _ You _ ? He could practically hear the sentence form on her parted lips.  _ Congratulations you ruined your life. Your parents must be so proud.  _ Yuri ground his teeth together, balling his palms into fists as she slapped her hand over her mouth, looking completely devastated after the shock had faded. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think. You just look so young.” 

And there it was. Yeah, definitely too young to be pregnant. His lip curled as he glared at her. “And?”

“Yuri,” Katsudon warned, squeezing his elbow. 

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just tell us where the jeans are.” 

At least she had the decency to blush. “Do you know what size you are?”

“Of course I fucking know what size I am!” He exploded loudly enough for the woman at the cash register to look over at them. Blood was pounding in his ears and actual steam was rising from his head. He had to take a few deep breaths to stop himself from punching something. He may have been stupid enough to get pregnant, but he fucking knew what size pants to buy. 

“ _ Yuri _ . Sorry,” Katsudon gave a short, jerky bow, grabbing Yuri by the shoulder of his jacket and pulling him straight out of the store. “Yuri, please,” he sighed. “She didn’t know-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, kicking at the foot of one of the benches that lined the walkway between the stores. People sped up as they passed around them. “You saw how she looked at me.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “How did she look at you?”

He growled, shoving his hands into his pockets. His throat was tightening around a block of ice.

“How did she look at you?” he repeated firmer. 

“Like I was fucking stupid,” he huffed. “Like I fucked up, like my entire life is a fucking mess.”

“Yuri, she couldn’t have possibly-”

“I know what she was thinking!”

Katsudon sighed again, stepping closer to rub large slow circles against Yuri’s back. “Okay, we can go somewhere else-”

“Why bother?” his eyes prickled fiercely, but he refused to blink and give in. “Everyone’s going to take one look at me and think I’m stupid or a whore, or-”

“No, Yuri-”

“They are!”

A man passing by looked over his shoulder as he passed and Yuri flipped him off, his eyes starting to leak. Katsudon hugged him tightly. Yuri hadn’t thought about how exactly the pregnancy would go, but it was only going to get worse. Once everyone could see his stomach, he knew they were going to judge him. He knew what they were going to whisper when they thought he couldn’t hear, he knew what kind of stares he was going to get, or how he would star in the local fucking soap opera. Did you hear? The Plisetsky kid got pregnant. I always knew he was slow, he never did well in school. Look at the how he grew up, look at his mother; he turned out just like her; a colossal fuck up. He growled, kicking the bench hard enough that he might have broken a toe. He bit his lip, screaming at the back of his throat. He didn’t know if it was out of pain or because everything was fucked. 

“Hey,” Katsudon murmured, squeezing him gently and putting himself between Yuri and the bench. “We can try another store, and we’ll tell them I’m pregnant and they’ll leave us alone and you can get some jeans. Can we do that?” 

He sniffled, cursing himself for breaking down like this. Especially when everyone around was sending him weird looks. He pushed Katsudon away, wiping his face with his palms.  

“Yeah,” He mumbled, hanging his head. 

He ended up with three pairs of jeans and two shirts, and any other day he would have called it a good haul, but as he looked into the shopping bag on the drive home, he wanted to rip everything to shreds.

“Hey, Yuri,” Katsudon started, seeming uneasy and Yuri thought he was going to start with some crap about not letting what people thought bother him. But what did he even know? He had a perfect life with a husband and his two planned children and his own dance studio. He didn’t know shit. He didn’t have people behind him expecting him to fail at everything. He turned away, glaring out of the window as cars zoomed past in the opposite direction. “Now that you’re not feeling as sick, would you like to help out with a few classes at the studio? I mean you don’t have to, but it would help to take your mind off of things and you don’t have to be alone at home all day when Otabek starts class.” 

Oh. Well, yeah the days had been blending into one another because he had nothing to fucking do. And Otabek’s summer break was almost over; things would be even more boring. “Like a job?”

“Yeah, paid of course. You don’t have to do anything too strenuous. I was thinking assisting with a few beginner classes. That’s ages five to seven and we do ballet, tap and jazz-”

“I know.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah. I can do that.” Katsudon let out a soft relieved sigh, and Yuri rolled his eyes. “I kinda miss the studio anyway.” 

Katsudon smiled and his expression was soft when he glanced at Yuri.  “You’ll be back before you know it, don’t worry.” 

 

Otabek had been acting weird the past few days. It wasn’t the weird that Yuri was used to when he would walk into a room to find him staring at the wall or paused during a simple task like brushing his teeth; he got caught up in his thoughts, he got it. But  he’d walked in on him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands a few times, and this past week had their dinners silent and tense. 

He found him staring out of the balcony door, pale faced and almost hyperventilating. Yuri ran to his side, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face against the middle of his back.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay,” he mumbled into his shirt.

Otabek’s back heaved with a giant sigh. “I didn’t win the competition,” he blurted out after a few moment’s hesitation. “I didn’t even place.”

Yuri held his breath. He’d gotten the results so quickly? Hadn’t he only sent everything in only two weeks ago? He tightened his arms around Otabek’s stomach. “Beka...” He couldn’t say that it didn’t matter, because it did. “They’ll be another compitions. You can try again-”

“That’s not the  _ point _ . I…” he paused, swallowing and looking down at his hands as he clenched and un-clenched them. “I don’t know… guess I’m just not good enough.”

Yuri’s throat constricted. “That’s bullshit! Your YouTube channel says differently, all your subscribers say differently! You don’t need some crusty old person judging you by one song, screw them.”  He chuckled bitterly and Yuri’s heart actually clenched. He nuzzled his cheek against Otabek’s back. “I know you wanted the prize money, but we’re okay for now. And Katsudon offered me a job as an assistant instructor or whatever, and I have some saved from all the competitions I did in Saint Petersburg. And YouTube still pays you. We’re okay now.”

His hands completely covered Yuri’s when he placed them over his. 

 

Otabek usually had his studio door firmly shut whenever he was recording, so when Yuri heard music all the way from the bedroom he got up. He padded down the hallway as quietly as he could in case he actually was recording, and stopped right outside the door. It was closed, Otabek hadn’t pushed hard enough to get the stiff lock into the door frame. And he held his breath. Otabek had the kind of voice that wasn’t easily forgotten, it was unique a bit throaty, but he had insane range, not like any of the boring singers he heard on the radio. He was signing the song he’d written for the competition and Yuri was frozen to the spot. 

Love songs were dumb; they were all cheesy, sad, and predictable, but this was something different. He flat out said that Yuri was a mess when he met him, with perpetually scraped knees and elbows, dirty sneakers, but with flowers in his pigtails and bows on his dresses. He had to lean against the wall to stay standing. His stomach fluttered and he knew that he was smiling like an idiot. He really had loved Otabek right from the start; his first friend, the only one who hadn’t been scared away by his tantrums and quick temper, the only one who had walked him to summer school instead of making fun of him when he found out he had them. He sat through every performance, sent him mixes to dance to, been his biggest fan. And, God, he’d been so stupid to only realise that he loved him when he started to date someone else. He remembered their first kiss, by accident, one of them had gone in for a cheek kiss and the other had turned their head. The electric shock that had run throughout his body was still seared into his brain. They should have jumped apart right away, but they didn’t. He remembered that it had lasted for minutes. They should have started dating then, but they didn’t. It had taken another three years after that, and by then Yuri had already moved to Saint Petersburg. 

God, they really sucked, their story sucked, but Otabek’s song was still beautiful. He slipped out to the living room after the piano had stopped and sat on the couch, his stomach rolling warmth and water welling in his eyes. He tucked a leg underneath himself, flopping heavily against the armrest and just smiled as one of his hands moved on its own to caress his stomach. He could have been there for minutes or hours, only coming back to himself when footsteps sounded down the hallway and Otabek emerged, from his studio, going straight to the fridge for a glass of water. He jumped when he saw Yuri on the couch.

“Yura, I didn’t see - what’s wrong?”

Yuri waved him off. “Happy tears.” Otabek sat down next to him pulling him close and kissing his temple. “I just,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I just love you, so fucking much.” 

Otabek chuckled, squeezing him gently. “What brought this on?”

“Your song.”

His cheeks turned red and Yuri craned his neck to peck him on the nose. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought I closed the door properly.”

Rolling his eyes, Yuri reached up to flick his nose with his index finger. “Don’t apologise, dummy. I love it.”

He turned even redder and Yuri shuffled over until he was close enough to climb onto his lap, settling with his back pressed against his chest. Otabek sighed softly, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s waist and resting his chin against the crook of his shoulder. 

“I’m thinking of posting it to YouTube.”  His breath ticked Yuri’s neck. 

“You should.”

“JJ thinks so too.”

“Ugh, you showed him? You still even talk to him? Why?”

“Stop it.” He swatted him softly on the side. “Yeah, he helped me with it actually, the music not the lyrics-”

“Wait,” Yuri looked over his shoulder. “He knows we’re having a baby?”

Otabek's expression was torn between guilty and proud. “Yeah. He, uh, says congrats.”

Yuri rolled his eyes again. “Of course he does.” He glanced down to his stomach, where Otabek’s hands were clasped right above the small swell and he smiled. Lifting one of Otabek’s hands by the thumb to rest it over the bump, he had to giggle when he jumped. He rubbed slow, soft circles with this thumb, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuri’s neck. Yuri let his eyes flutter shut and, God, this was just perfect. Otabek’s touch had a warm tingly feeling spiraling out from his stomach. 

“I read that the baby’s around the size of an orange now. Fifteen weeks right?” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow. He would read up on pregnancy, the nerd. “It’s still so tiny.” 

Otabek kissed his neck again. 

Yuri placed his hands on top of Otabek’s. The baby was tiny  _ now _ ; that would change quickly. He still felt warm and fuzzy, excitement bubbling up from the pit of his stomach to his chest. He breathed out through his mouth. “Are we insane for doing this?”

Otabek chuckled softly, kissing Yuri on his jaw this time. “Probably… most definitely… yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **April 27th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings:  
> \- mention of abortion   
> \- sexual content

“I think we need to talk to my parents,” Otabek began with a sigh over breakfast. 

Yuri paused with a fork-full of eggs halfway to his mouth, turning to his left to glare at Otabek. “Why?”

Otabek looked up from his tea, or rather tea-flavoured, hot milk. “We can’t keep this a secret from them, Yura.”

“Doesn’t your mom already know?”

He blinked and frowned in confusion. “Huh, no. I didn’t tell her.”

Yuri sighed, setting his fork down. His appetite was gone anyway. “When I threw up at lunch that time. I think she knows.”

He pursed his lips. “We still need to tell them.”

He was right, but that didn’t mean anything to Yuri. “We should just run away together, forget about everyone and stuff-”

Otabek shook his head. “And what about your job at the studio? And Grandpa, and Katsudon and Viktor?”

His stomach sank into his chair. “I don’t want to talk to your parents. They already hate me.” 

“They don’t hate you.”

Yuri glared at him. “They think I’m wasting my life away by dancing, and they don’t want me to drag you down with me. Maybe if I was smart it’d be different, but-”

“Yura, you’re not stupid -” 

“Don’t.” He raised a hand when Otabek opened his mouth to argue further. “I know what I am.”

“So what, you weren’t good at studying-”

“Or maths, or geography, or history, or literature-”

“That doesn’t mean anything. You can be good at every subject at school and still not make anything of it. Look at Nasiv-”

“He’s  _ pre-med _ , Beka-”

“And he sucks as a person. He’s mean and full of himself and everyone at school knew it. You can have the best marks in the world, but if you have a terrible personality you’re going to have a hard time. And you, Yura, are the furthest thing from a terrible person.”

Yuri snorted. “Yeah, and my huge list of friends can back you up, right?”

Otabek huffed. “Give yourself some credit, babe. You’re not as bad as you think.”

Yuri swallowed, looking away and trying to decide if Otabek had made him feel better or worse. Warmth was swirling around in his chest, though. He glanced over to the balcony door; Otabek had drawn back the curtains and mid-morning sunlight shone through in a rectangular patch on the glossy wooden floor. 

“So, you really think telling your parents is a good idea?” Yuri asked after taking a sip of his tea. 

Otabek nodded. “The sooner we do it, the better.”

“What if they cut you off?” 

He swallowed around a bite of toast. “I… I don’t think they will. They’ll be mad, yeah, but I don’t think they’ll go that far.” 

“I hope you’re right.” He looked around. “There’s no way we’d be able to afford this place without them.” Otabek hummed softly. “When do you want to go?” 

“Let’s do Sunday, I know they’ll both be home then.”

That was tomorrow. Shit. “Are you sure?” 

He nodded. “You don’t have to come if you’re too nervous-”

“Are you shitting me? Of course I’m coming. What the fuck? You expect to go to your parents and tell them  _ I’m  _ pregnant and I’m not even there?”

He shrugged one shoulder and Yuri rolled his eyes at him. This idiot; he didn’t like Otabek’s parents, but he would never let him do that alone. God. He scraped up the last bit of his scrambled egg whites off his plate and looked over at the last bit of toast crusts on Otabek’s plate. “You finished?”

He looked down. “Uh, yeah.” Yuri hopped off his stool and grabbed both of their plates and his empty mug. “I’ll get it-”

“It’s fine, Beka.” He was already at the sink anyway. Otabek watched him pick up the dish sponge and squeeze way too much soap onto it, but Yuri knew he was already miles away from the kitchen. “How big is our baby now?”

He blinked back to reality, eyes widening owlishly. “Uh,” he had to think for a few moments. “The size of an avocado, I think.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow scrubbing at the frying pan he’d used to make the eggs. “Avocados come in different sizes, though.”

Otabek grinned, pulling out his phone, God, he had the website saved. “Baby is the size of an avocado, measuring 11.7 centimetres long and weighing in at 99 grams.”

Yuri bit his lip, something fluttering in his chest. “Still so tiny.” Otabek wasn’t listening, though; a soft gasp told Yuri he was still focused on the website. “What?”

He looked up at Yuri, his eyes shining and soft. “Even more thrilling,” he read, “will be feeling baby kick, which could happen starting this week.” 

Yuri’s eyes widened and he looked down at his stomach, his hands twitching to touch it, but they were covered in soap. “Already?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He was grinning widely. “Another cool fact? Baby’s starting to be able to hear your voice—and he or she will recognise it at birth—so feel free to chat baby up any chance you get.”

“Oh my God.” 

“I know.” He chuckled softly, slipping from his stool and rounding the bar to stand behind Yuri. he wrapped his arms around Yuri’s waist and pressed his palms to the bump. “Hey there, baby,” he mumbled, breath tickling the side of Yuri’s neck. Yuri giggled, smearing a dollop of soap suds across Otabek’s nose. He wiped his face on the back of Yuri’s shirt. 

  
  


Yuri had read somewhere that his alpha’s scent could help him to calm down, but as he looked down at himself, at the loose, black fabric of Otabek’s t-shirt; he still felt like he was going to throw up. To be honest, he had never really liked going over to Otabek’s house, especially if his parents were around, and this visit was going to be the worst one yet. Otabek’s hand was tight around his waist as he lead Yuri through the front door. The train ride over had been painful, and the short walk from the station to Otabek’s house had been even worse. It was like someone had taken a knife to his gut. Taking a deep breath, he smoothed a hand over his stomach, rubbing slow small, circles against the bump. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Otabek mumbled, squeezing his hip. Yuri knew that he was trying to convince himself, though. He still nodded. “Mom, Dad?” he called, hanging up his jacket and turning to take Yuri’s, but he shook his head, pulling his cardigan tight around him. “We’re here!”

“Otabek?” his dad called from the direction of the kitchen. 

“Yeah.”

The scene that they walked into was straight out of some sort of cheesy, generic family movie. Yelena was at the kitchen table pouring over text books thicker than his  _ babulya’s _ bible, while her dad helped her with some sort of equation. Their mother was at the stove stirring a sweat-smelling sauce. Yuri could have almost believed that they were a normal, functional family right then. 

“Beka!” Yelena smiled, jumping up and running to hug them. “I didn’t know you guys were coming over.” 

“Yeah,” Otabek muttered, looking at his feet. 

Yuri swallowed and glanced back over to Otabek’s mom and dad, his heart hammering. They were staring at them and neither of them looked too happy. Suddenly, it was hard to catch his breath and the room spun beneath his feet. 

“Finish your homework in your room, Yelena,” Otabek’s dad instructed firmly, standing from his seat. His glare got harder and Yuri wanted to disappear right then and there. 

Yelena’s eyes widened and she nodded, giving Otabek and Yuri a worried look. “What did you do?” she whispered, before turning around to gather her books from the table. Otabek shook his head and Yuri bit his lip. 

The tea and slices of cake Otabek’s mother had set down on the coffee table a few minutes later were to set a false sense of security. Yuri tried to make himself as small as possible between Otabek and the armrest of the couch. 

“So, what did you want to talk to us about?” Otabek’s mom asked, stirring milk into her tea. Yuri stared at his lap, just trying to concentrate on keeping his breath even. She knew what they were going to say; why did she have to play with them like this?

Otabek reached out to grab Yuri’s hand and twined their fingers together. He could almost see Otabek’s mom’s teeth crack with how hard she clenched her jaw. Taking a breath deep enough for his shoulders to move, he opened his mouth and only hesitated for the barest of seconds. “We’re having a baby.” 

Yuri couldn’t hear anything over his heartbeat for the next few moments. He swallowed, his stomach tightening until it hurt. 

“What?” Otabek’s mom’s voice was like an icicle, hard and piercing. 

“We’re having a baby. Yuri’s pregnant.” 

There was an almost full minute of silence where Yuri could see the anger building on both of their faces. His insides shriveled up  and he bit his lip, turning back to his lap. 

“Are you going to get rid of it?” his father asked. Yuri held his breath, covering his stomach with his free hand. No, not this again. 

“No.” Otabek’s voice was firm.

That was all his father needed to stand up and start shouting. How could they be so irresponsible and careless? He had thought better of them, that they were smarter. What about school, what about a career and money? Yuri wanted to curl into a ball, his eyes stinging, and his throat constricting so much it was hard to breathe. Otabek’s hand tightened around his, comforting even though his entire body was tense as well. 

“How can you even think to keep it when the two of you have no plans for the future?”

_ What _ ? Yuri’s head snapped up and he glared at Otabek’s father in disbelief. Okay, he knew they thought that dancing was not a  _real_ career, but he thought that they had at least tried to see what Otabek could do with his music. 

Blood pounded in his ears. “ _ Are you for real _ -”

“I have income,” Otabek spat, cutting him off. “I make money from my music, I’m not just sitting around and doing nothing like you think. I have a YouTube channel; I get paid enough for rent and food and  _ more _ . But you don’t even care; you think I’m wasting time and not  _ trying _ because I’m not studying to be a lawyer or doctor!” 

His father looked like he was going to go on, but his mother put a hand on his arm and pulled him back into his seat. “Your  _ music _ or this YouTube will not be enough to support a  _ child _ , Otabek, you need a  _ real _ job.” Yuri felt her words right through his chest, and Otabek swallowed loudly, looking like he’d been slapped. She crossed her hands neatly against her lap as she glared at Yuri as if he was the bane of her existence. He probably was. “Are you sure it’s even yours?” 

Yuri couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. Okay, wow. He hadn’t expected that to hurt so much. 

“Of course it’s mine,” Otabek ground out through a clenched jaw. 

His mother scoffed giving Yuri another glare before switching to Kazakh. Yuri hung his head, letting his hair fall over either side of his face. He knew Otabek’s mother had never liked him much; he’d been a bad influence on her son with his coarse language, his broken home, and poor grades. She had wanted him gone almost as soon as she got to know him. Yuri didn’t understand much Kazakh, but he knew the words that counted. And he wasn’t only a bad influence, he was a Russian whore with no future, with no hope or job prospects, because what respectable company would look at someone who dropped out of high school to  _ dance _ . He was cold even though Otabek was pressed against his side, and he _wanted_ to get mad, to jump up and curse her and her husband out until  _ their _ grandparents rolled in their graves, but instead he felt fat, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, his nose clogging, and his chest and stomach hurting. He held his breath hoping to keep back the tears, but his shoulders started to shake and he had to sniffle. 

Otabek’s other hand went around his shoulders, pulling him tightly against his side. 

“ _Shut up_ ,” Otabek spat and his mother drew in a short hiss, going quiet.

“Otabek,” his father began, sounding even more furious. “You will not speak like that-”

“I won’t just sit there and listen to you call my boyfriend a whore either! You don’t know anything!” He got to his feet, pulling Yuri with him. “We’re having this baby and if you ever want to be part of your grandchild’s life, you should start thinking differently.” 

Yuri nearly stumbled over his feet as Otabek pulled him from the living room and right out the front door. He stomped halfway down the driveway before he spun around and cupped Yuri’s cheeks, wiping away his tears with his thumbs. Yuri hiccuped trying to stop himself from crying. 

“Shhh,” Otabek murmured, smoothing his thumbs across his cheekbones. “It’s going to be alright, baby, I swear. We won't ever have to deal with them again if they don’t apologise. It’s going to be okay, I’ll make it okay.”

Yuri screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip as he blubbered. Why couldn’t he stop fucking crying? Otabek pulled him against his chest, tucking him under his chin and wrapping him up tightly in his arms. 

“Beka,” he hiccuped against his throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Otabek made a soothing noise at the back of his throat. “We’re going to be fine.” 

“I never should have dragged you into this mess.” He felt Otabek stiffen. “I should have never made you be my friend and ruin your life too. You don’t deserve this-”

“Yura,” Otabek sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Yuri’s forehead. “I love you. You didn’t ruin anything, if hadn’t met you or Grandpa, I would have probably turned out like Nasiv. I never would have had the courage to get serious about music, and I wouldn’t be nearly as happy as I am now.”

His stomach fluttered, and he wiped his eyes with his sleeves. “But your parents...”

“Fuck my parents. If they can’t see what a beautiful and wonderful person you are then I don’t want to have anything to do with them any more.” Shit, was he shaking? Yes, there was a slight, barely there tremor in his chest and arms. 

Yuri closed his eyes again, nuzzling against Otabek’s chest. “Aren’t you scared, though? We… we need-”

“I’m terrified.” He took a deep breath, chest expanding against Yuri’s cheek. “But it kinda felt good to yell at them like that.”

Yuri barked an unexpected laugh and he pulled away just enough to look up at Otabek’s face. His eyes were slightly glassy and his smile was strained. Yuri swallowed, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

 

They settled down for a simple dinner of sandwiches and tea once they got home. Neither of them had said much on the train ride. Yuri looked into his cup of tea, ginger - he wasn’t nauseated, but he still needed the comfort. 

“We’ll be okay,” Otabek said, ripping the crusts off of the bread. “I was looking at all the expenses and with what I make on YouTube, we’ll be able to make it if we move into a cheaper place, maybe somewhere closer to Grandpa-”

Yuri set his mug down with a loud clunk, the tea nearly sloshing over the sides. Otabek looked up at him, eyes wide. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry-”

There was a loud frantic knock on the door, and Otabek looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Yuri shrugged, looking at the door as well. 

“Beka! Yuri!” 

He jumped off his stool, and Yuri was close behind. Yelena, stood on the other side panting, her sneakers unlaced and her hair windswept. She shoved her way in as soon as the door was open. 

Otabek peered into the hallway, looking up and down before shutting the door and locking it. “What are you-”

“Is it true?” she asked, looking between them. Yuri wrapped his arms around his stomach, looking at his feet and curling his toes in his pink, polka dotted socks. 

“You were listening?” 

“When you guys started shouting it was hard not to.” She took a deep breath through her nose then crossed the entryway to pull Yuri into a tight hug. He jumped slightly. “Don’t listen to my parents, they’re assholes.” 

He swallowed, slowly returning the hug. “Yeah, I know.” 

“My mom has no right to be calling you anything. She’s hardly worked a day in her life, and she doesn’t know how hard you worked to get to Saint Petersburg.” Yuri’s eyes started to sting again and his throat tightened. “That’s why I study so much, you know; I don’t ever want to be like her.” 

“Yelena,” Oabek mumbled, resting a hand against her shoulder. 

“If you guys need any help,” she bit her lip, letting Yuri go. “I don’t… I don’t really know what I can do but-”

“It’s okay,” Yuri said, taking her hand and squeezing. “Thanks for coming over, though, it says a lot.” 

She smiled. “I mean, I can like babysit when… you know.”

Otabek coughed. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?”

“Fuck no. I yelled at them and left.”

Otabek’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Even Yuri wasn’t sure that he had heard correctly. “ _ You- _ ”

She shrugged. “Mom had no right to call Yuri all those names. And Dad wasn’t any better. I told them what I thought, and if they’re mad at me too, then whatever.” 

Otabek sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I… you didn’t have to… thanks.” 

“And I…” she bit the inside of her cheek, and looked down at her feet. “I wanted to see if you guys were okay.” 

Yuri smiled, pulling her back into a hug. “How did such assholes manage to raise such amazing people?” 

She scoffed. “I don’t think they had anything to do with it. I mean, they also raised Nasiv-”

“Don’t… Don’t tell him yet.” Otabek jumped in. 

“Ugh, no, why would I? He’s the last person that needs to know about this.” 

Yuri shook his head, letting her go again. “Spending the night?” 

She glanced to Otabek and sighed. “I think I should.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just let them know, so they don’t call the police.”

She rolled her eyes, sliding on socked feet over to the couch. Yuri followed, sitting down next to her as Otabek went back to the breakfast bar to get their dinners. 

“So, I’m going to be an aunt.” Yuri bit his lip, resting his palm against his stomach. “That actually sounds so weird.” She shook her head. “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl yet?” Otabek set down the plates on the coffee table and handed Yuri his cup of tea before sitting down on his other side. 

Yuri shook his head, watching her stare at his stomach. 

“I hope it’s a girl.”

Yuri scoffed. “Why?”

Yelena peered at Otabek and grinned cheekily. “Cause I know Beka wants a boy.”

“ _ What _ ?” Otabek spluttered, mid-bite. 

Yelena sat back, satisfied and Yuri laughed around the rim of his cup.

 

Herding a bunch of five-year-olds was harder work than Yuri had thought it would be. He’d been put into the beginner ballet class that day, and the kids had all swarmed around him once their teacher had introduced him, asking him question about ballet and when they were going to get to wear tutus. His job was to help anyone that needed a few tips here and there, and to walk them to the bathroom. They were cute if anything, wide-eyed and eager to impress. He’d corrected more than a few feet, and hands, and stopped a little, brown-haired girl from falling over during a Plié. She had been about to cry, embarrassed and frustrated, already able to tell that she was a bit behind the rest of the class.Yuri's heart had clenched. 

“Let me show you a trick.” He stooped down next to her, cupping his hand around his mouth. Her eyes had widened and she nodded eagerly. “Imagine there’s a string tied to the top of your head.” 

“A string?”

He nodded, pressing his fingertip to the centre of her head. “Right here, and it’s pulling you up like a puppet.” She giggled, straightening her spine, throwing back her shoulders, stretching her neck. Yuri patted her stomach to keep her in line. “Yes, like that.” She grinned. “Now bend your knees and keep thinking about that puppet string… Yes, that was perfect!” She bounced back up eyes alight with happiness. Yuri held his hand up for a high-five. “Great job!”

The instructor nodded at him as he circled back around the room. “You’re good at this.”

He shrugged. “Anyone could see her alignment was off. I just had to get her to keep her core tight.” 

She smiled. “I would like you to keep an eye on Sofia. She needs a little extra help, and I would hate to see her get discouraged and give up.”

Yuri nodded. Yeah, he’d hate to see that too.

When the class had finished, Yuri had to wait for the last kid to be picked up before leaving the room. He was heading back to the staff changing room to grab his bag before meeting with Katsudon in his office, when he heard someone come up behind him. 

“Yuri, is that you?” He spun around, nearly falling flat on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

He blinked. This girl looked vaguely familiar. The back of his neck started to itch as he tried to place her. “Uh, it’s fine.”

“You don’t remember me?” She winced. “Rinya? We went to the same school and we were in the same dance class for a while too.” 

“Oh, right! Yeah.” Ekaterina, she’d danced with him when he was like thirteen and he remembered seeing her around at school a few times. She’d been a few years below him, though. “Sorry about that. It’s been a while.” 

She nodded, leaning against the wall after checking that no one was behind her. “Yeah. I thought you were in Saint Petersburg now.” 

“Uh, yeah.” He quickly glanced down to his stomach, but he’d already made sure that he’d worn a long, loose t-shirt and baggy shorts over his leotard. “I’m on vacation for a while. And Katsudon- Yuuri, uh, Katsuki asked me to help out here for a bit.” 

“That’s nice of you, so you’re like teaching?”

“Assisting.” 

She nodded. “Well you should drop by my class if you get the chance.” 

“Yeah, I’ll try to.” 

She smiled, pushing off the wall and adjusting her bag on his shoulder. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. I gotta go; my parents are waiting for me.” 

“Yeah, nice seeing you, too.” He winced, grinding his teeth once she was gone. Fuck. He hadn’t thought he’d actually see anyone he knew. Katsudon’s studio was well known, but what were the fucking odds? The last thing he needed was for her to find out and blab around to the entire school that he had come back to Moscow because he had gotten pregnant. He screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as he slumped against the wall. 

 

“Hello, Yuri?”

“Yes?” he answered uneasily, wondering why he even answered a call from a number he didn’t know. 

“This is Sabria Altin, Otabek’s mother.”

He ground his teeth together, anger instantly boiling in his stomach. Yeah, he was going to block the number after this. He had thought he had hers saved. “What do you want?”

There was a moment’s pause. “I wanted to talk to you about this... situation. I need to better understand how this happened.” 

Yuri narrowed his eyes. He should hang up; he had no reason to be talking to her after what she’d said to him. “How it happened? Otabek and I fucked, that’s how it happened.” 

He could hear her grinding her teeth and she took a short, harsh breath. “Why didn’t you use some sort of contraception-”

“I was on birth control. It failed.” His skin was crawling and his hand was starting to shake around his phone. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.  _ Of course _ I was on birth control. So, no, I didn’t do this to sabotage your son’s  _ perfect _ life.” 

“You don’t  _ have _ to keep it, you know.” 

Rage barreled out of his chest, causing steam to rise from his head. “I’m  _ not _ getting an abortion.” 

“But think for a second-”

This bitch. “You think I  _ haven’t _ ? That what? This whole thing has been a fucking walk in the park for me?  _ I’m not getting an abortion  _ and nothing you can say will convince me-”

“I knew you were selfish, but I didn’t realise just how much. Do you realise that you’re not only ruining your life, but  _ my _ son’s-”

“Fuck you.” He hung up, shaking and nearly throwing his phone across the room. He yelled, slamming the side of his fist against the headboard and making the entire bed shake. He fucking knew all of that. He knew he had fucked up everything. He’d ruined his chances of dancing, he’d ruined Otabek’s career, and he’d probably been stressing out Grandpa, Katsudon, and Viktor as well. He knew he couldn’t do anything right, and maybe, he paused, his hand dropping to his stomach, maybe he wouldn’t be good enough for this baby either. 

Every bit of energy left him in an exhale, and he flopped over sideways. It was hard to breathe again, and his skin felt like it was crawling. He closed his eyes, grabbing a pillow and pressing it against his face. Why did she have to call? Hadn’t she said enough? Fuck, he sniffled, already feeling tears falling sideways across his face.

He hadn’t even been able to look at the ultrasound at his doctor’s appointment earlier. He’d specifically asked the doctor not to show him, and he had to look away when her expression dropped slightly, after announcing with excitement that they would be able to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. So, he’d just lain on his back while she ran the scanner across his stomach in silence and he didn’t even realise he’d started to cry until she had offered him a tissue. He’d been sent home with a bunch of brochures about pregnancy and depression, and a list of psychologists that he could call. 

Grandpa had eyed the brochures when Yuri had gotten into the car, but didn’t say anything and Yuri closed his eyes, leaning against the headrest and trying to pretend that the unspoken question didn’t exist. 

“Was everything okay at the doctor’s?” Grandpa had asked softly. 

“Yeah.” Yuri took a deep breath. “Sorry for making you come all the way out-”

“Hush. I’m not letting you take the train like this.” A short pause. “What was the blood test for?” 

“Uh, I can’t remember the name, but it was to check for chromosomal abnormalities-”

“That information’s important, Yurochka, you should be paying closer attention.”

“Yeah, I guess. But she just tells me what tests I need and I take them.”

“And what else are you not telling me?” How did he do that? Yuri bit his lip, turning to face the window. “Yurochka?” 

His eyes were stinging. “I had my first ultrasound today.” 

“That’s wonderful news-”

“No, it’s not. I couldn’t even…” his voice cracked. “I want to have this baby, I want to keep it, but… I’m…”

“It’s okay,” Grandpa shushed him, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “You don’t have to explain yourself. If you weren’t ready, you weren’t ready.” 

Yuri swallowed. “It’s too small.”

“Hmm?”

“The baby is too small.” He reached up, wiping his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, and sniffling. 

Grandpa swallowed. “The baby could just be small.” 

“No. I fucked up, I should have…” Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. Katsudon had been right; he should have been taking better care of himself. From the start he should have done things differently, he shouldn’t have waited so long to do anything. And now the baby was paying for it, for his mistakes. He was already a shit parent and it hadn’t even been born yet. He had already failed before he even decided to try. God, he was the fucking worst. Grandpa didn’t even know what to say. 

And then Otabek’s mother had called when he got home. So, maybe he was just selfish and ruining everyone’s lives, and maybe the baby really didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t know how long he stayed on his bed staring at the wall, but suddenly his door swung open and someone stomped up to his bed. 

“I had Dr. Lebedeva clarify a few things.”

Yuri sat up; what the fuck was Katsudon doing here? He sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs over each other and resting his elbows on his calves. 

“Yes, the baby is small - has been growing a bit slowly - but it’s not by much and there _are_ things you can do to make sure it doesn't become a serious problem.” Yuri blinked, pulling his knees to his chest. “One, you need a better diet. I know putting on weight isn’t easy for you, but the baby needs it. There are loads of websites that tell you what you should be eating right now. And I got you some prenatal vitamins.  _ Take them _ .” 

Yuri swallowed, staring at his feet. “Thanks.” 

Katsudon sighed softly, leaning sideways against Yuri’s shoulder. “Also, you’ve been extremely stressed and that most likely contributed, also you're still growing yourself, so..." he sighed again. "I know it’s a lot to ask, but your mental health is just as important. Talk to me, or you Grandpa,  _ and _ Beka. It could be about anything, any time, I’m here to listen and help.”

Yuri shook his head. “You’ve already helped so much.”

“And? There isn’t a limit or some quota I have to fill.”

“You have your own family to worry about.” He tugged at the hem of his leggings. 

“And who told you that you weren’t my family? Yuri, I’ve known you since you were two. You're as much my family as Viktor or Nikitok and Maya. So, please, tell me what you need.” 

His eyes started to sting again. “Thank you.” 

Katsudon, grabbed his hand, squeezing gently as he twined their fingers. “You have another appointment in two weeks, so if we do everything the doctor suggested the baby should be fine.” 

He nodded, feeling his chest expand in a fluffy warmth. 

 

“Holy shit!” Yuri shouted, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He’d been trying on a few old leotards that he’d found in the back of his section of Otabek’s closet. At seventeen weeks the bump was becoming impossible to hide, especially in his dance clothes. Katsudon had commented that Yuri was still a lot smaller than he’d been at seventeen weeks with both kids, and Yuri didn’t know if that should have made him feel better or worry. If he used Otabek’s hoddies he could cover anything, but since he’d resurrected his leotards from the closet he might as well get use out of them as well. His stomach wasn’t the problem, but as he rolled the leotard up his body, he paused. 

“What?” Otabek called from the bedroom.

Yuri blinked a few times, reaching up to press a palm to his chest. Holy shit. “I’m growing boobs!” 

“What?”

Yuri rolled the leotard back down to his waist. No wonder his nipples had been feeling so sensitive lately. The change had been so gradual that he hadn’t even noticed, and well okay, his nipples had been looking a bit puffy for a while now, but he was actually growing boobs. He turned sideways, arching his back to stick out his chest. They could hardly be called boobs yet, but they were noticeable. “Look.” He strode out of the bathroom and Otabek’s entire face went red instantly. He seemed to be torn between looking away and staring at Yuri’s chest. 

“Yura-”

“Do you think I’ll need to wear a bra? I should call Katsudon.” He flopped onto the bed, stretching his arms over his head, practically feeling the heat from Otabek’s stare.

“Uh… they aren’t that big.”

“ _ Yet _ .” He heard him swallow and he had to bite back a grin. “Like, you saw how Katsudon got when he was pregnant with Amaya.”

“Uh-”

“I know you were checking him out, don’t even try to deny it.” 

Otabek had frozen his eyes wide, cheeks red, and mouth agape. Yuri giggled, crawling onto his lap and pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth. Otabek’s eyes flashed as he snapped back to reality and he rested his hands against Yuri’s hips. Yuri hooked his arms over his shoulders cupping the back of his head and massaging his undercut. They broke into wide grins as they stared at each other, then giggles as they tried to find each other’s mouth. 

It was a soft kiss at first, both still all smiley, but each peck grew slower and deeper until it was just one long kiss. Their bodies moving together and their tongues turning needy as they breathed in each other. A small fire started in Yuri’s stomach as well. 

Otabek’s hand came up to his chest, and Yuri grinned into this kiss as he stopped short, pressing his palm against the base of his ribs instead. There was no denying that he was curious, but as always he needed an extra push, a go-ahead. Yuri shuffled closer, grabbing his hand by the wrist and pressing it to his chest. Otabek stiffened, ending the kiss and looking at Yuri with wide eyes and a furious blush.

Yuri grinned, arching his back into the touch and held Otbaek’s hand more firmly. It was a bit weird, he wasn’t used to having anything extra there, much less anything so loose and flabby. But, holy shit, it actually felt really good to have Otabek’s hand pressing against him, a sort of tingling pressure that had him gasping for air and sent waves of heat to his stomach. He bit his lip, and screwed his eyes shut as he rolled his hips from his seat on Otabek’s laps. 

“Does, does it feel good?” Otabek asked uneasily. 

Yuri’s response was to grab his other hand and press it to the other one, breathing harshly through his nose. Otabek swallowed, tentatively starting to knead with his fingertips, and when Yuri moaned in encouragement began palming them in earnest. 

Yuri collapsed forward, pressing his forehead to Otabek’s collarbone and digging his nails into his shoulder blades. 

Otabek’s chest rumbled as he spoke. “Th-this is actually… kinda hot.” 

Yuri’s scoff turned into a gasp as his thumb rolled against one of his nipples. “Yeah?” He breathed. “It would be hotter if you fucked me, though.” 

Otabek laughed through his nose, swallowing loudly. “Yeah.” He licked his lips and when Yuri looked up his eyes were half-lidded but fierce. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update this fic **every other week** so the next update will be on **May 11th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	10. Chapter 10

“What do you think of Dominika?” Otabek asked, from his spot on the toilet. 

Yuri tilted his head, resting a sudsy hand on the edge of the bathtub. “What does it mean?”

“Domain.” 

“Hmm, interesting. Add it to the list.” 

Laptop keys clacked as he typed. Yuri shifted so he could rest his chin on the edge of the tub as well. The warm water was like heaven on his sore back and legs. Ballet class hadn’t been any more difficult that day, but his back had been aching off and on lately.

“Anna?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “That’s so common.”

“It’s pretty. It means favour, or grace.”

“I know like six Annas’.”

“I’m adding it to the list.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, resting his free hand against his stomach. The baby was moving around a bit more now; he’d been feeling little flutters and honestly they had felt like gas at first. He figured out what they were when he and Otabek had been sitting on the couch, the night before his the semester started. He’d stopped in the middle of a sentence, frowning and putting a hand to his stomach. He had turned to Otabek after a while, who looked like he was ready to call for help. 

“The baby moved,” Yuri’s voice had been a breath of air. 

Otabek’s eyes had widened to literal dinner plates, and he pressed his palm to Yuri’s stomach with a soft gasp. Yuri smiled, covering Otabek’s hand with his. 

“It’s really in there,” he mumbled. It felt almost surreal, that there was an actual baby growing inside of him, even more surreal now that he could feel it. 

“Yeah,” Otabek sounded like he was miles away, and he probably was; his eyes seemed glassy as he stared at Yuri’s stomach. 

Yuri chuckled, ruffling his hair and pushing it back from his forehead. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, smoothing his palm across Yuri’s stomach. “So, you’re big enough to move now.” Yuri bit his lip, holding back a smile. “You had us worried for a while there, you know. Don’t use up all you’re energy moving around, though, you still have a lot of growing to do.”

Yuri scoffed, swatting him lightly on the back of the head. “That’s not how it works. I think.”

Otabek looked up, grinning with shining eyes. Katsudon and the doctor had helped him come up with a diet plan to help him gain weight. It was a lot of snacking, but he could handle it if it was just fruit, vegetables, and nuts. He still didn’t look like he was eighteen weeks pregnant, he’d looked at pictures online, but Katsudon had assured him over and over that everybody was different. They would know for sure at his appointment later that week. 

After pressing a soft kiss to Yuri’s stomach, he stretched his legs out along the couch, maneuvering Yuri to sit between them. Yuri leaned against his chest, grabbing his hands to rest them on the fullest part of his stomach, just in case the baby moved again. He might not be able to feel anything yet, but at least he could try. Otabek didn’t seem to mind, though, kissing up the side of his neck. 

“I still can’t really believe this,” he mumbled, his breath hot against Yuri’s neck. 

“Yeah,” he turned his head, finding Otabek’s mouth. 

He grazed callous fingerpads along his jaw, guiding him into a slow, soft kiss, and the night had gone on from there. 

“Sof’ya, it means wisdom,” Otabek went on, glancing from the laptop to Yuri.

Yuri sounded the name back to him, wiggling his toes above the surface of the water. “I like it.” It was like Sofia, the cute, little girl he’d been helping in class. Otabek nodded. “Okay, what about boys’ names?”

“Evlan, pious.”

“Ew, no.”

“Iosif?”

He hummed, smoothing his thumb across his navel as another fluttering shook his stomach. Baby liked that one. He smiled. “Okay.” 

“Mikhail?” 

“I know three Mikhails, not even joking.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a common name.” 

“Yeah, but,” Yuri wrinkled his nose. “We should at least try to be creative right?” 

“I’m not naming our kid something that no one can pronounce,  _ or _ a made up name.”

“Not like that, I mean we should pick something that we’ve never heard before. Do you have any idea how annoying it was to have like two other kids named Yuri in like every class you go to? Fuck even Katsudon is a Yuri and he’s all the way from fucking  _ Japan _ . It doesn’t even mean anything cool, it means  _ farmer _ , like what the fuck?”

“Tiller of soil.”

“What?”

“I’m reading it right now; sounds more poetic than farmer.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. Otabek chuckled, closing the laptop and sliding to the bathmat where he crossed his legs and grabbed the hand Yuri had thrown over the side of the tub. “Grandpa told me how you refused to call Katsudon by his actual name when you first met him.”

“I did?” 

“Yeah. He said when you guys met you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you had the same name.”

He scoffed, tapping his fingers against Otabek’s knuckles. “It’s  _ my _ name.”

“That’s what he said you said. You took one look at Yuuri and told him flat out that wasn’t his name because it was yours,” he chuckled.

That sounded like something he would have done. He shrugged, well he’d been calling him Katsudon for as long as he could remember anyway, so something must have worked out. “I was like two when I met him.” 

“It’s still cute.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Help me up.” He held out his arms, dripping water onto the bathmat. Otabek huffed as he stood up, and helped Yuri brace himself as he stood. His back still twinged, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been after class. He worked the muscle with his palm as he stepped out of the tub. 

“Your back feel any better?” Otabek asked, handing him a towel. 

“A bit, the bath definitely helped.” He dried off his face and arms, before moving down his chest and using Otabek as a brace as he bent to get his legs. “I still wanna sleep for two years, though.” 

Otabek scoffed, bending down to peck him on the cheek. 

 

“You need to hold still, Yuri,” Katsudon instructed, as Doctor Lebedeva prodded at his stomach with the ultrasound wand. 

Yuri rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop himself from jittering. The only person in the room more nervous than him was Otabek, who was perched on a stool in the corner with his eyes fixed on his lap. Yuri knew all the anatomical figurines and charts made him uncomfortable, especially since he was right across one that detailed both female and male omega mammary glands. Otabek’s eyes had widened and his face had gone red. Yuri was sure that he would see heat waves rising from his head if he looked close enough. 

Thankfully, Yuri’s appointment had fallen during a break between his classes and he’d ridden his bike through lunch hour traffic. He’d made it minutes before Yuri had been called into the doctor’s room. He’d watched completely silent as Yuri got onto the examination table and after the routine questions and physical checks, lay back and rolled up his shirt. 

“Ah, there they are,” the doctor chirped. 

Yuri held his breath, eyes flickering to Otabek’s as his head shot up. The screen was pointed away but this time Yuri was positive that he wanted to see. 

“Can we…” Katsudon asked, his grip on Yuri’s hand tightening. 

“Of course.” And with a brief glance at Yuri, she turned the monitor to face them. 

Yuri stared, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a grainy grey image. Was that really his baby? It was literally just a grey screen with dark and light spots. But, God, was that really inside of him? Both Katsudon and Otabek’s eyes were fixed on the monitor as if they could see the baby clearly. Katsudon’s eyes had gone all soft, and he started rubbing Yuri’s knuckles. Otabek had gone pale again, but his mouth was open ever so slightly, and his eyes were happy. Yuri frowned, was he missing something? He glared at the monitor and his spine beginning to tingle. Everything sort of faded into the background, he didn’t even feel the wand on his stomach or the sticky gel. He could kind of make out a figure, but he wasn’t even sure. Still, that was his baby on the monitor, it was really them, inside of him. His own breath was loud in his ears as his skin tingled and his chest tightened. He was going to topple over, the examination table was swaying like a ship. That was really the baby. It was actually real. 

“Looks like baby’s doing fine,” Doctor Lebedeva said, snapping Yuri out of his trance. “Moving around a lot more than two weeks ago, but I’m sure you’ve been feeling it by now.” Yuri nodded, a thick haze still floating around his head. That was really his baby, his and Otabek’s baby. “Well, it seems you’ve been doing an excellent job eating well and resting, baby seems happy.” He tried to smile, but he had no control over his face. “Do you want to listen to the heartbeat this time?” 

He swallowed, the sound echoed around the room. Nodding, he glanced to Otabek whose eyes were still fixated on the monitor. A soft thump-thumping noise filled the room, and Yuri’s eyes prickled instantly. Otabek jolted forward, nearly falling from his stool, and Katsudon squeezed his hand, smiling widely.

“Well, they’re healthy, definitely a little fighter; the heartbeat’s strong, steady...”

Yuri had to wipe his eyes. “You said we’d be able to tell the sex?” 

“Of course,” she hummed, “Okay, so here’s the head,” she pointed to a large, dark spot with a faint white outline. “And if we go this way here are the arms, aww they’re sucking their thumb.” How the hell was she seeing this? Katsudon cooed softly and even Otabek huffed a soft laugh. 

Yuri squinted at the monitor. “Is it supposed to look like a jelly bean?”

The doctor chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that, they are curled up pretty tightly.”

He hummed, tilting his head. Okay if that big spot was the head then, oh, they  _ were _ sucking their thumb. His hand flew to his mouth and his vision went blurry again.

“Actually Yuri could I get you to lay on your side? Baby’s trying to hide from us.” He rolled over, and she slid the wand over his stomach again, seeming to have trouble finding the right angle. “Hmmm, well, here are the legs, but looks like baby wants to keep the secret a little bit longer. Seems they’re a little bit shy.” 

For some reason that made Yuri’s face crack into a smile. “Shy baby,” he chuckled, looking over and locking eyes with Otabek. “Just like daddy.” 

Otabek blushed crimson. 

 

“You better hope that baby comes out like Beka,” Grandpa roared, laughing as he banged the side of his fist against Viktor’s dinner table. Yuri scowled at him. “I love you, Yurochka, but you were an unholy terror.” 

“That’s the truth,” Viktor chimed in, smirking around the rim of his mug of tea. “The moment we took our eyes of you, you’d end up in a magnificent mess.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, almost wishing that he’d taken Nikitok up on his offer of watching  _ Barboskiny  _ when he’d finished eating.

“And so stubborn too,” Grandpa continued. “I even brought you to the doctor to check your hearing because you just  _ wouldn’t listen _ .”

Katsudon was chuckling softly from the other end of the table, where he was helping Amaya with the last of her mashed potatoes. “Oh yeah, I remember that,” he grinned. “We really thought it was a serious problem, turns out you were just ignoring us.” 

Otabek had to cover his face as he laughed so hard that his shoulders shook. Yuri kicked him; but he didn’t even look sorry when their gazes met.

“Better hope your genes are strong, Otabek,” Viktor said, still smirking. “I don’t think a single one of us can take another Yuri.” 

“Fuck you guys,” Yuri grumbled. 

“Language, Yurochka,” Grandpa warned, but his eyes were still laughing. 

 

It took two days for the doctor’s office to call back with the official results of the ultrasound. Yuri went by himself this time, he wasn’t as nervous since he’d actually seen the baby, but the doctor went through all her findings. The baby was still on the small side, but they were approaching the safe range. So, Yuri was instructed to keep himself well rested and fed. 

He only had class three times a week, and even if he had asked Katsudon if he could help out with more classes he had refused. 

“We can talk more about it  _ after _ you have the baby,” he had deadpande, not even looking away from his computer. 

Yuri had stomped his foot. “But-”

“I know you. You’ll push yourself until you drop and, frankly, you can’t afford to do that right now.”

“I won’t!”

“You’ll do the ballet classes, and that’s all I’m giving you right now.” 

And that had been that. Katsudon was a stubborn bastard when he was ready, and it wasn’t like they classes were hard work or anything. The most work he had done was keep Sofia from falling over when she practiced her  _ fondu _ ; she hadn’t been holding onto the barre, and he’d scolded her for that. So, he had nothing to do for the rest of the day until Otabek came home from class that evening. 

Well, he was supposed to be resting anyway. Yuri sighed, slumping down into the couch, his jeans squeezing against the leather. And, to be honest, he was kind of tired; his legs had been cramping something fierce, keeping him up for most of the night. The doctor had said that the cramps were from dehydration, but that was bullshit because he’d been constantly drinking water and tea. He scoffed, mindlessly rubbing his stomach as he reached over for his backpack on the cushion next to him. He pulled out his phone but a piece of paper cane with it and fluttered to the ground. Groaning, he bent over to pick it up. The baby wasn’t so big that he couldn’t bend over, it was just beginning to get really awkward, feeling like if he went too far he’d fall over. 

The paper turned out to be the printed picture of the ultrasound. The doctor had said he could keep a copy and smiled warmly as he stared at it. Otabek was going to frame it, probably. Grinning, he got back up to the couch and unlocked his phone. Grandpa would like to see the scan too, he should send him a picture of it. But Otabek had texted him so opened the messaging app first. 

Beka:   
You home yet?    
How did your appointment go? 

Me:    
It went alright    
Baby’s growing fast now   
Almost caught up to a normal baby now 

He didn’t reply, so he was probably busy in class or something. So, Yuri huffed throwing himself against the backrest. He literally had nothing to do. 

“At least when you’re born I’ll never be bored.” He stroked his stomach. It was either a coincidence or the baby responded to his touch, because he felt a slight flutter. “You really are moving around a lot more, huh? God, you must be bored with nothing to do in there too.” Another flutter and Yuri laughed aloud. 

 

Most of Otabek’s classes were evening classes for some reason; the trade of was that he only had to get up early two days a week, so he didn’t seem to mind too much, and Yuri’s ballet classes went from four to five forty-five, so when he got home Otabek wasn’t too far behind. And on nights like tonight he could get dinner started, because Otabek ate pure crap between classes. 

He turned up one of Otabek’s bluetooth speakers to the loudest volume, tied up his hair and moved around the kitchen shirtless because even the thin fabric of his t-shirt was driving him mad. Growing boobs were both itchy and very sensitive; he hoped he wouldn’t get stretch marks. Besides, Otabek’s reaction would be priceless when he came home. Baby was excited too, they hadn’t stopped moving since Yuri had put on the music. 

The music was loud enough that he barely heard Otabek’s keys jingle in the lock, and he looked up, pausing in chopping up the vegetables for his stir fry. He watched the door turn from behind the breakfast bar wondering if he should go greet him. 

“Hey, Beka,” he called grinning as the door swung open Otabek stepped through, glanced at Yuri before turning back around in a panic and well, fuck. “Oh my  _ God _ !” he screamed turning around, covering his chest with his arms and sinking down behind the counter. 

There was roaring laughter from the doorway and Yuri’s cheeks heated to the temperature of the sun. 

“What the fuck is  _ he _ doing here?” Yuri yelled over Otabek’s panicked English. “Go get me a shirt!” 

He covered his face with his hands, listening as doors opened and closed. Otabek appeared in the kitchen seconds later, red-faced and chewing his lip. He handed Yuri one of his v-neck, obviously trying not to stare at his chest, but his eyes flickered downwards every so often. 

“What the fuck, Otabek?” Yuri grabbed the shirt, yanking it over his head.

“I tried calling,” he mumbled, wincing. “Where’s your phone?” 

“ _ I was cooking _ .”

Otabek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He surprised me. I don’t even know how he found the university-”

“Is it safe back there?” 

Yuri shot to his feet, ready to yell his head off, but came face to face with sparkling blue eyes as fucking JJ leaned against the other side of the breakfast bar. 

“Hi, Yuri,” he said, extending his arm to shake. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” 

Yuri blinked as his mind scrambled to translate the English. Glaring, he hesitantly grasped JJ’s hand, his cheeks steaming. 

“Hi.” He couldn’t make eye contact, even as Otabek came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“So, uh, yeah,” He mumbled softly, patting Yuri’s hip. “This is Yuri.” 

Yuri stared at his feet, wanting nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him.

JJ sighed, still laughing. “I already love it here. Oh, and this is Bella, my wife.” 

Fuck, there was someone else with him? Could this get any worse? Gritting his teeth, he looked up to see a woman, who looked at least part asian, smiling and leaning against JJ. 

“Hi,” he squeaked. 

Her smile widened and she also extended her arm to shake. 

“So, uh, we were going to go out for dinner,” Otabek said softly.

“But… I,” Yuri looked down at his chopped up vegetables. 

“You would have known if you answered your phone,” JJ teased. 

Yuri sighed. “Fine. Let...me,” he grumbled before switching back to Russian. English was exhausting brain muscles he hadn’t used in a long time.“I’ll just put these away, change.”

Otabek nodded. “We can get going in a few minutes,” He let go of Yuri after a gentle squeeze and guided JJ and his wife over to the couch. “Do you guys want anything to drink?” 

He swept the vegetables into a plastic container as quickly as possible and practically ran to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Fuck, something like that would have happened to him. The back of his head met the door with a soft thump and he groaned. Fucking JJ. 

Yuri’s head was spinning as they walked along the sidewalk to one of Otabek’s favourite restaurant. He was missing out on huge chunks of the conversation just because his mind couldn't translate that fast, and he hadn’t had to deal with anything in English since He’d traveled with Lilia’s troupe back in April. So, he lagged behind looking up from his feet every so often to see JJ talking Otabek’s ear off while Bella, short for Isabella maybe, walked quietly to his side. He sighed softly, rubbing his stomach and glanced back to the ground.

“Are you okay?”

He nearly jumped when Isabella fell into step beside him. 

“Huh? Uh, yeah. I’m, just,” he huffed, tugging a lock of hair. “Just. My English isn’t very well.”

“Well it’s better than my Russian, thats for sure.” 

Yuri shrugged. Otabek was fluent, his parents had made sure that he could speak English. They walked in silence for a few moments. Yuri’s skin began to itch even though he’d put on one of the lightest dresses he owned. He picked at his cuticles and a piece of gold nail polish flaked off. Great, he’d have to re-do them. 

“So,” she began again. “JJ told me you were pregnant.”

Yuri swallowed. It’s not like she couldn’t tell. “Yeah.” Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he waited for the judgement, for the snide comments or disgusted look.

“Congratulations,” she said cheerily. “I’m sure you and Otabek are excited.”

Yuri blinked, nearly stumbling as he turned to look at her. Um, what? “I, uh… thanks?” 

Her smile widened. “How far along are you?” 

“Nineteen weeks.” 

“Already?”JJ spun around, clasping his hands behind his head and walking backwards. “But Beka told me about it like last month! Nineteen weeks, that’s like five months!”

“Four months and like a week, Babe,” Isabella corrected. Yuri rolled his eyes and JJ just grinned wider. 

“But…” he paused, counting on his fingers. “Huh?”

“You start on month zero, if that makes more sense,” Otabek offered. 

“Oh!” He snapped. “That’s weird. But you look good, Yuri. You’re kinda glowing.”

“Huh?” Yuri raised an eyebrow, snapping to Otabek, who just smiled over his shoulder and nodded. “Uh, thanks.” He tugged at one of the hair elastics around his wrist. 

“He’s right,” Isabella agreed. Yuri’s cheeks went hot again. “So have you guys been thinking of any names?”

Yuri swallowed, pressing his palm to his stomach. “Uh, we’re not sure if it’s a boy or girl yet.”

“I already know what I’m naming my kid,” JJ announced, spinning back around after Otabek tugged him. 

“Oh, do you?” Isabella challenged.

“Noé for a boy and Orianne for a girl.”

Isabella hummed. “We’ll see.” 

Yuri chuckled when Otabek shook his head. “We haven’t been looking that hard,” Yuri admitted. “I mean, we’ve been busy with other stuff. But Beka likes all the common names, it’s so annoying.”

“Ugh, he would.” JJ agreed, shoving him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a common name-”

“Yeah, says the guy named  _ Otabek. _ Literally every other person I know is a Jean-something. Jean-Luc, Jean-Pierre, Jean-Christophe, ugh, it’s disgusting.”

Yuri scoffed. “I want something… different. It doesn’t even have to be unique, just, uh, uncommon.” 

“Is Yuri that common?” Isabella asked.

Yuri huffed, looking around the sidewalk. “ _ Ey _ ,” he called to a middle aged man who was ambling along with a bag of groceries and a cigarette. “What’s your name?” 

“What did he say?” JJ asked Otabek. He translated just as the man blinked in confusion but answered anyway. 

“Yuri.”

He did a double take. What were the fucking odds, really? “ _ Spasibo _ ,” he waved the man  in thanks as they continued on. He turned to the three, glaring. He was going to ask if he knew anyone named Yuri, but that proved his point just as well. 

“That was just a coincidence,” Otabek deadpanned shaking his head.

JJ broke down, laughing so hard they had to stop for a minute. “Beka,” he gasped for air, clutching the hem of Otabek’s shirt. “All the times we’ve Skyped and FaceTimed and never once did you tell what a treasure your boyfriend was.” 

Yuri’s jaw dropped, but he managed to close it before anyone could notice. “I still think you’re an asshole.” He paused, turning to Isabella. “No offence, though.”

“You say that to  _ her- _ ”

“He is.” Isabella agreed without batting an eye. 

“Bella!” 

Yuri chuckled, elbowing past JJ and Otabek to lead the way to the restaurant. 


	11. Chapter 11

“Did you eat too much?” Nikita asked loudly as Yuri sat down on the couch with a mug of tea.

Yuri raised an eyebrow realising that he’d been rubbing his stomach.  “Uh, no. Why?” 

He shouldn’t have asked why. Nikita blinked owlishly. “Because your belly is really big.”

He heard both Katsudon’s and Viktor’s bursts of laughter from the kitchen and even Amaya looked up from her colouring book to see his big belly. Yuri sighed, shuffling closer to Otabek’s end of the couch. He’d been hoping that it would take Nikita a while longer to realise anything. Still at twenty two-weeks his stomach was getting pretty round. Otabek glanced up, spots of red already forming on his cheeks. 

“I didn’t eat too much,” he told the six-year-old. 

“Then why is your belly so big?”

He sighed again. “Because there’s a baby inside of me.” It still sounded weird to say out loud. Otabek wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. 

“What?” Nikita’s eyes widened and he crawled closer. Amaya had abandoned her crayons and had toddled over to him as well. Yuri handed his cup to Otabek and bent over to pick her up and set her in his lap, her eyes were fixed on his stomach. “A baby?” Nikita continued. “In there?” 

Yuri bit his lip. “You remember before Maya got here, how your papa had a  _ huge _ belly? Remember that Maya was in there?”  Nikita gasped and nodded right as Amaya looked up, shocked with a frown on her little face and her mouth open in confusion. Yuri snickered.  “Yup, you were in your Papa’s belly.” He poked her cheek and she giggled softly. 

“When is your baby getting here?” Nikita asked.

“Not for a while, Nika. They still have a lot of growing before they’re ready to meet you.” 

“Oh. They’re not big yet?” Yuri shook his head, leaning against Otabek’s side. “How big do they have to get?” 

“Um,” he blinked.

“As big as a watermelon,” Otabek provided softly. 

Both Nikita’s and Amaya’s eyes widened before they started to giggle. Yuri bit his lip, yeah a fucking watermelon. Fuck. 

“How big are they now?” 

Otabek hummed for a second. “The size of a coconut.” Did he have that stuff memorised? God, Otabek. 

Nikita found that hilarious. “Hear that, Maya? A coconut!” Amaya was laughing for laughing sake, and she pressed her hand to Yuri’s stomach, curling her fingers around one of his shirt buttons. The baby tapped against his insides and Yuri huffed a short laugh as well. 

“How did they get in there?” Nikita asked suddenly. 

Otabek choked on his breath and even Yuri was at a loss for words. 

“Um, well that’s…” 

At least Katsudon took pity on him then, and he and Viktor entered the living room, arms linked and smiling. 

“Don’t pester Yuri, Nikitok,” Viktor chided as they sat down on the love seat. 

“I wasn’t!” Nikita waved his arms. “I just asked how the baby got in there.”

Amaya wiggled until she was able to slide off of Yuri’s lap and toddled across the living room to her parents. Viktor picked her up, setting her on her lap as he gave Yuri the most annoying smile in life. 

“Well, you see, Nikitok,” Katsudon started softly. “That’s how families start. When a mommy and a daddy get married and they really want a baby the daddy gives the mommy a very special gift and that gift turns into a baby.”

Yuri bit his lip. He pressed his cheek against Otabek’s shoulder as he pulled out his phone from his pocket.  Nudging Otabek to do the same.

Me:   
A gift, huh?

He texted him and waited for him to read before firing off another one.  

Me:   
Yeah, if that gift was your dick

Otabek coughed, gently elbowing Yuri and putting his phone away. His cheeks were even redder now. 

“Stop it,” he mouthed. Yuri had to bite his lip even harder.

Katsudon’s story satisfied Nikita for all of two seconds. “But how does the gift get into your belly? Do you eat it?” 

Yuri couldn’t stop himself from snickering. He buried his face against Otabek’s shoulder after Katsudon gave him a withering glare. 

“What’s so funny?” Nikita asked.

“Nothing, sweetheart-”

“I just remembered a joke,” Yuri explained. “Any more questions?”

Nikitok seemed to think for a while, the little gears audibly clunking in his head. “But,” he began looking from Yuri to his parents. “But Yuri’s not married. Who gave him the gift?” Katsudon sighed heavily, shaking his head and Viktor just looked amused. Otabek grunted softly and Yuri had to nudge him. “Don’t you have to be married?” Nikita turned to Yuri frowning. “You're not married.”

“Nope.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna marry you when I’m big.” 

“Are you?” Yuri asked raising an eyebrow as Otabek’s arm tightened just a bit around his shoulders. Yuri shuffled even closer, their thighs pressed against each other. A small smile played at the corners of Otabek’s mouth as he turned to peer around Yuri at the six-year-old.

“Well you better grow up big and strong or Yuri will marry someone else,” he said softly. 

Nikita gasped, eyes going wide. 

Yuri scoffed, elbowing Otabek in the ribs. 

“And growing up big and strong,” Viktor cut in, “means listening to Papa and me.” 

Nikita tilted his head to the side. “How does that make me grow big?” 

Yuri could tell the exact moment when a little bit of Viktor died. 

  
  


The night before JJ and Isabella left Moscow, the four of them sat around Otabek’s studio. Otabek and JJ were playing around on the sound board with clunky headphones over their ears, while Yuri and Isabella watched from the bean bag chairs in the corner of the room. Yuri had unsteadily got down into one, proud that he didn’t spill any of his tea. The baby was clearly done worrying everyone by growing slowly and almost every morning Yuri felt a bit bigger. No one had said anything at the dance studio yet, even though he’d been getting weird looks from some of the older students. So far Otabek’s hoodies were doing the job to hide most of it, but he could still see a little paunch through the thick material.

Balancing his mug of tea on his stomach as he stretched out his legs, he looked from Otabek and JJ to Isabella. No one had really been talking, but Isabella was staring at the two with a small smile on her face as JJ looked up winked at her then nudged Otabek to do something on the computer. After that he kept on glancing back and forth between them. They must have really loved each other; even when he was just fooling around, Isabella looked at JJ like he was finding the cure for cancer or some shit. Well, they were married after all. He took a sip of tea, absentmindedly rubbing the side of his stomach when the baby moved. 

Yuri had played tour guide for the past two weeks. He’d surprised himself by offering to take JJ and Isabella around while Otabek was in class. He’d brought them to the Kremlin that morning, the busiest of the tourist locations then they’d gone around the Red Square, toured Saint Basil's Cathedral, then spent the rest of the day walking around the Alexander Garden. Yuri’s feet had started to kill him early on, but he didn’t want to ruin anything so he kept quiet. But as the day had worn on it was almost impossible to keep up with them.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, eyes full of concern as Yuri held onto the stone railing that separated the lawn from the couple meter drop into a canal below. 

He was breathing hard all of a sudden, winded from just fucking walking. 

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing. “Just need a moment.” 

He and Isabella shared a look that had Yuri rolling his eyes and pushing past them. They didn’t spend too much longer at the park afterwards; Otabek had texted him to say he’d gotten dinner delivered and Yuri offered a silent prayer. Once home and after showering and eating he felt a lot better, even if he was still a bit worn out. 

The room was mostly quiet as Yuri drank his tea, rubbing away a slight tight discomfort from his stomach. 

“Alright so, I’ll upload it as soon as I get back to Canada,” JJ said, snapping his laptop shut and hanging his headphones around his neck. Yuri raised an eyebrow looking between the two of them. “It’d make more sense for me to post first, right?”

Otabek nodded, removing his headphone and neatly winding the cord around them. “You have more subscribers anyway. Yeah just let me know when.”

So, they had ended up doing some sort of collab video. Well, they had locked themselves in the studio for a few days leaving him and Isabella to their own devices. And JJ had been shoving a camera into his face at every opportunity he got. 

“Everyone’s going to love this!” JJ spun around on his stool. “It’s going to be our most popular video yet!” 

Otabek grinned, blushing slightly as he got up and made his way across the room. JJ, on the other hand, ran and cannonballed onto Isabella’s beanbag. He landed with a small explosion  and a ruffled Isabella. 

“Really?” she shoved him away, trying to readjust herself. JJ cackled, pecking her on the tip of the nose. 

Otabek settled on Yuri’s side, quietly curling around him. Yuri leaned into him. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” he asked Isabella, watching her face soften as JJ finally settled down 

“Oh,” Isabella smiled gently, giving JJ one last glance before turning for face Yuri. “We met in high school. I thought he was annoying at first, but then we joined the school band in grade ten and actually got to talk. Long story short we started dating by the end of the year and, well, almost seven years later we’re married.” 

“She couldn’t resist this charm.” JJ added. 

Yuri hummed. “Did anyone give you guys grief about deciding things so quickly?” 

JJ wrinkled his nose. “Seven years isn’t that quick.”

“Yeah but…” he rubbed the other side of his stomach feeling a slight tightness as the baby moved around. “But you were teenagers for most of it.”

JJ shrugged. “I don’t think that really matters. Seven years is seven years, you know.” 

“What did your parents say?” 

He tilted his head slightly. “Well, they both knew how we felt about each other.”

“But you’re like twenty-one.” 

“Do you think we should have waited longer?” He raised an eyebrow daring Yuri to say something else.

“What? No, I’m not judging you, I promise. I’m the last person who should be judging anyone.” Otabek grunted softly, nudging Yuri’s shoulder. He continued to rub his stomach and sighed. “I’m just… how did you know you were ready if people kept on telling you you weren’t.” 

JJ hesitated for a while, studying Yuri’s face. “Well, for me, I just stopped listening to them. I know how to make myself happy, so why should I take advice from someone who doesn't?” Yuri blinked, almost stunned. Yeah, he made sense. “What about you and Otabek? How did you meet?” 

Yuri set his cup down on the floor next to his foot, and rested both hands on his stomach as something inside of him tightened again. “I met him when I was like six.” He answered, turning to watch a tiny smile form on Otabek’s face. Isabella’s eyes widened, JJ looked impressed, and Yuri grinned; yeah, it had been a while. “He moved here from Kazakhstan and was the only new kid that year. I still don’t know why he picked me to be his friend.” 

“Oh hush,” Otabek chided. “You know why.”

Isabella tilted her head. “Well, from what I’ve heard and seen so far, you’re a pretty nice guy.” 

Yuri snorted. “Well you don’t know me at all.”

She raised an eyebrow as JJ laughed. “I bet secretly you’re a little sweetheart-”

“Ow,” he grunted, holding his stomach as it tightened again. And okay, that wasn’t the baby moving; it felt almost like cramps. Otabek tensed instantly. 

“Yura?” 

“I’m okay.” He massaged his stomach, breathing in deeply ignoring how everyone was staring at him with so much concentrated concern.

“Are you sure?” Otabek asked, wrapping his arm around Yuri’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just… cramps.” 

Otabek squeezed his shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down his arm in comfort. 

“Has this happened before?” Isabella asked. 

Yeah, but not like this. Yuri looked from her to Otabek and JJ. “It’s nothing.” He could ask Katsudon about it.

“Yura,” Otabek started.

“Really, Beka, I’m fine. It was just a long day, and both the doctor and Katsudon said I’ll get more achy after doing a lot.” 

Otabek sighed softly and the room was silent for a few minutes. 

“Well, I guess we should be getting back to the hotel now,” JJ announced, scratching the back of his head. “We shouldn’t impose on you guys anymore.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I wouldn't have volunteered to show you around if I didn’t want to.”

JJ shrugged. “But we didn’t mean to tire you out.”

“You didn’t.” 

He didn’t look to convinced, neither did Isabella for that matter. 

“We still should get going,” she said, “Our flight is pretty early tomorrow.”

Otabek nodded, getting to his feet and reaching down to help Yuri up. They said their goodbyes at the door, both JJ and Isabella insisting that they didn’t need them to bring them back to the hotel. 

“It was nice meeting you,” Isabella said with a smile. 

“Yeah, you have to come to Canada soon, well after the baby is born of course,” JJ said, clapping Otabek’s shoulder.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Who says I want to ever be in the same country as you again?”

JJ’s response was to grin widely and trap him in a hug. 

“What the fuck, let go of me!” 

Leaning against the door after JJ and Isabella left, Yuri mumbled, “I want what they have.”

“What they have?” Otabek hummed as he stepped up to him and held both of his hands. 

Yuri tilted his head. “Like how, I don’t know, they’re head over heels in love with each other and they couldn’t give two fucks about what anyone else thinks. They’re married, and what, like twenty-one.”

Otabek bit his bottom lip. “I mean, I would have asked you to marry me, but you’re still technically a minor.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “As soon as you turn eighteen, though.” He leaned in to place a soft kiss to his lips. 

Yuri couldn’t hide the smile that broke out on his face. He kissed back, throwing his arms around Otabek’s neck and pushing him back into the living room. Otabek wanted to marry him, that had come right from his mouth. 

“That’s not really what I meant, though. I mean like,” he huffed. “Like they don’t care if someone thinks that they’re too young for marriage, or to be in love, and, I don’t know, being around them was kind of…”

“Refreshing?” 

Yuri blinked. “Yeah.”

Otabek nodded. “Yeah. When JJ told me he was married, I asked how old he was. And that really shouldn’t have been my first reaction. But it’s what he said, right? If you know what you want, and what makes you happy, then why should you listen to someone who’s trying to make you unhappy?” 

Yuri smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around Otabek’s waist. “I want to start thinking like that.” 

Otabek pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Me too. For them it was getting married, and well for us,” he placed a palm against Yuri’s stomach. “It’s a baby.” 

Yuri smiled giving him one last shove to fall onto the couch. He landed with a soft ‘oof’ and Yuri climbed onto his lap, bending to join their mouths. He pressed his fingertips against the back of Otabek’s head; his undercut was getting a bit shaggy but he still liked the feeling. 

“I still can’t believe this,” Otabek mumbled between kisses, pressing his palm to the side of Yuri’s stomach. 

“Hmmm?”  Yuri hummed, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“We’re having a baby.” 

“Yeah.” He smiled. “We really are.”

Otabek chuckled, stroking from the fullest part of his stomach down. The baby was fluttering like they had wings. Yuri smiled, grabbing Otabek’s hand, bringing it where he felt the baby moving the most. He didn’t know if he’d be able to feel it yet, though. 

“Baby likes that,” he mumbled.

“They’re moving?”

“Oh yeah; feels like they’re having a dance party.”

Otabek chuckled softly, stretching up to give Yuri a soft kiss on the side of his jaw before crouching over to place his lips against his stomach. 

“You just need some music, huh?” 

Yuri snorted, reaching down to pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the couch. Otabek’s eyes shone as he looked up at him and he kissed the spot right above his navel, his eyes only flickering to his chest twice. Yuri threaded his fingers through his hair as he settled both his hands against his stomach. 

“You still getting cramps?” 

He shook his head. “I’m fine now. They stopped a while ago.” 

His lips vibrated as he hummed against his stomach. And he felt the baby move again, wiggling as he hummed. Yuri giggled, pushing Otabek face away. 

“That tickles.”

Otabek grinned, finally straightening and leaning against the backrest as he rubbed circles against his stomach with his thumbs. “It might have been Braxton Hicks contractions,” he mumbled. 

Yuri raised an eyebrow; of course he was still doing research. “Contractions? Ugh, I don’t even want to hear that word right now.”

Otabek winced. “They didn’t hurt right?”

“No, just felt… a bit uncomfortable.”

He hummed again cupping the back of Yuri’s head to guide him down for a gentle kiss. Yuri breathed him in, his eyes fluttering shut as heat trickled into his chest and down to his gut. It didn’t take much to deepen the kiss, prodding at Otabek’s lips with his tongue. The hand on the back of his head, dropped to his back, pressing them together. Rolling his hips, Yuri smiled when he felt a bulge in the front of Otabek’s jeans and ground down against it, relishing the hiss the escaped his mouth. 

“Yura,” he mumbled breathily. “I love you.” 

Yuri held his breath, pulling away to nibble at his bottom lip. “I love you too. I love you so  _ much _ .” 

He scooted high up Otabek’s lap, pressing down against him, as wet heat exploded in his pants. He bit his lip throwing his head back, picking up a rhythm of quick, hard rolls. Otabek’s other hand finally left his stomach, and Yuri wasn’t even surprised when he grabbed one of his boobs.Yuri bit back a laugh. He’d been getting bolder; he liked that. He let his mouth drop open as Otabek dipped his head, closing his lips around one of his nipples.

“Fuck,” Yuri swore, entire body convulsing.

“Sorry!” he squeaked jumping back, eyes wide and cheeks red. “I don’t know why, I just-”

He grabbed him by his hair, pushing his face roughly against his chest. “You don’t just start something like that then just  _ stop, for fuck’s sake _ .”

His throat bobbed against Yuri’s ribs as he swallowed. He hesitantly took his nipple back into his mouth. Yuri let out a slow, loud gasp. 

“Babe, I  _ like _ that.”

Otabek nodded the tips of his ears now red as he started back. Yuri moaned, throwing his head back again as everything inside of  him shook. He wasn’t even a full cup, and according to Katsudon he might not even get there, but everything Otabek was doing with his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good. His eyes practically crossed and he was positive that his underwear was soaked by now. 

Yuri held his breath for as long as he could, letting Otabek play as he slowly ground against his crotch. But his skin was tingling, everything in his pants was tingling, so he placed a finger under Otabek’s chin, gently guiding his face away. Otabek looked up through his eyelashes - and if the baby didn’t inherit his eyelashes, Yuri was suing -  in confusion. 

“I don’t know how you’re holding on for this long, but I fucking need you right now.” 

Otabek licked his lips hesitating slightly before reaching down to undo his jeans. His knuckles bumped against Yuri’s erection in the process and he stood up, yanking both his sweatpants and underwear down his hips. Otabek short-circuited for a second, his jaw dropping as he stared down Yuri’s body. It seemed like he forgot how to move as Yuri climbed back onto his lap, pick back up his grinding. He jumped, through, when he shoved his hands into his pants, unzipping his fly to palm him through his underwear. 

His entire body shuddered as his breath left him. 

“How are we doing this?” he asked, licking his lips and groaning. “I don’t… don’t think I should be on top anymore.” 

Yuri hummed. No, his stomach was definitely too big for that now. “Like this.” He wrapped his hand as much as he could around his cock, nails digging into the thin fabric.

“You want to r-ride me?” he coughed.

Yuri kissed the side of his neck. God, he was so adorable. “Yeah.” 

Otabek looked like he was about to hyperventilate and pass out. He placed a soft peck to the tip of his nose - God, he hoped the baby also got that nose - and pulled him out from his underwear. His throat bobbed and Yuri leaned forward, placing a palm to his chest for balance. His heart was pounding and Yuri smiled, looking right into his eyes. 

Closing his eyes in anticipation, Yuri reached behind him, grasping Otabek’s cock at the base. He pressed his face to his neck, mouthing at the hollow underneath his ear. He could feel as Otabek held his breath. He bit his lip as he slowly sank down onto him, grunting at the stretch and fullness. 

“I thought you were tired?” Otabek teased, breathless.

Yuri threw back his head, moaning softly as he rolled his hips. “Never too tired for sex.” he ignored the bite of Otabek’s zipper against his ass.

Yuri cracked an eye open just to in time to see his blush deepen. He smiled, leaning forward and capturing Otabek’s mouth. His hands were suddenly heavy on Yuri’s hips, his skin as hot as fire, steadying him as he bucked up into him. The kiss turned sloppy and frantic, breaths harsh and hot. Leather squeaked against Otabek’s jeans as he adjusted their position so he could thrust into him fully. Pound was more the word. Yuri held onto the backrest, arms on either side of Otabeks’ head, and he was positive that he would have a denim textured tattoo once Otabek was finished with him. He grinned, nibbling at Otabek’s bottom lip before he pulled away. 

“I thought I was going to ride you?” his question ended in a grunt as Otabek slammed into him. 

He shook his head, pushing down on Yuri’s hips so he was seated fully in his lap. Yuri took the moment of stillness to catch his breath and relish in the fullness in his ass. He bit his lip, eyes falling shut as he let out a low moan. 

“We should do it slow, tonight,” Otabek mumbled, rolling his hips ever so slightly. 

Yuri ground down in response, feeling heat throb in his dick and ass. “No.” 

Otabek didn’t argue, pushing into him so hard that Yuri bounced up onto his knees. He went hard, fast, and deep.

He came, biting Otabek’s pulse breathing in his scent.

 

Yuri put on one of  his nicer dresses, feeling like he should at least try to look like he cared. The dress was pretty modest, with three-quarter length sleeves and hitting him at the knee, but the clingy jersey material didn’t do anything to hide his stomach. Though, if Otabek’s parents were coming over to talk about the baby then he would proudly put his stomach on display. He thought it would be a good idea until he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Smoothing his hands along his stomach, his skin started to itch. He could even see his navel through the fabric now. He huffed, rolling his eyes as he turned away from the mirror and picked up his brush from the counter. There was no way around it; he was fat. He should just put on a sweater and a pair of jeans.

“Hey, Yura? My dad just texted,” Otabek stepped into the bathroom. “They’re on their way.”

Yuri sighed turning around. He didn’t know why he was fighting with his hair either.

“Wow.” Otabek was suddenly in front of him, grasping his arms and with his eyes wide and jaw loose. “You look amazing.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes even though his cheeks heated to like a  thousand degrees. “Shut up,” he grumbled, looking anywhere but at Otabek’s stupid, wide-eyed face. “I’m fat.” 

“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant,” he answered firmly. Yuri ground his teeth together. “Hey, babe,” he gently squeezed his wrists. “You’re beautiful. All the weight you put on is for the baby. It’s to make sure they’re strong and healthy.”

Yuri bit his lip. God, he was an complete ass. “I know,” he grumbled. “It’s just that I feel so fucking big and I haven’t even been doing much exercise and I just feel like a slob and all gross-”

“You’re not gross.” 

“Yeah but I  _ feel _ like it.” His eyes were prickling now. “I’m going to change.”

“What? No, you look good like this.”

“The dress is too tight and your mom already thinks I’m a whore.”

Otabek breathed out heavily through his nose. He ran a finger along Yuri’s cheek before leaning forward to kiss him. “Well, I think you’re beautiful and I don’t give a fuck about what my mom says.”

Yuri swallowed, his stomach fluttering. “Have I ever told you how hot it is when you swear?” 

Otabek blushed, instantly pulling away. “Stop it.” 

Yuri giggled softly, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Okay, I’ll wear it.” 

Otabek’s parents had called him a few days earlier to say that the four of them needed to talk. Yuri honestly wanted to wash his hands of anything to do with them, but he listened to what Otabek had to say anyway. 

“I’m not going over there. If they want to talk, they have to come  _ here _ .” Yuri stomped his foot to make his point. 

Otabek sighed heavily. “Okay, I’ll tell them. But we’ll need to cook dinner.”

Ugh, Yuri rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was cook for those bastards. 

Otabek came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and placing a soft kiss to his neck. “I know they’re assholes, but I think they want to apologise.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, pulling away. “They can apologise all they want but I’m never going to forgive them.”

Otabek sighed softly. “Yeah, but at least hear them out, right? For the baby? They want to help us out.”

Yuri snorted. “I doubt it! Not after your mother told me to get an abortion.” He didn’t notice that his hand was on his stomach until he looked down. 

“She what?” Otabek sounded horrified. 

Yuri tugged at a lock of hair, before pushing it behind his ear. “She called me the day after.” He sighed, pulling out one of the bar stools and hopping up to rest his elbows against the countertop. 

Otabek sat down next to him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “What did she say exactly?” 

“That I was selfish and ruining your life, all that stuff.”

He breathed out heavily through his nose and Yuri could hear him grind his teeth from his stool. “I… I can’t believe… Yura, God, I’m so sorry.”

Yuri bit his lip. “I well… I hung up on her so it’s cool.”

“It’s not  _ cool _ . What did she think calling you would do?” Yuri shrugged. Otabek dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t even know what to think about them, now.” He sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I went to the office yesterday to see if they had any payment plans for rent, and  well everything was already paid.” Yuri raised an eyebrow. “My dad… He’s an ass, and emotionally constipated, but he’s never… he’s always taken good care of us, of me.” 

Yuri ground his teeth. Fuck, he hated Otabek’s family, but he couldn’t deny that bit. Even when Otabek’s parents didn’t approve of his guitar lessons, they never threatened to stop paying for them. And after that long fight about him going to university for music, they still paid the tuition and helped him move into an apartment closer to the university. Yuri groaned aloud. They were so messed up. But he and Otabek really couldn’t afford this place without their help. 

“What should I make?” he threw himself forward, pressing the side of his face to the counter. 

“We can just order something.”

“And have your mom think I’m even more useless?” 

Otabek closed his mouth with a snap. “Uh, soup is easy, it wouldn’t take too long either. There was that creamy carrot soup I made a while back. It was pretty easy, didn’t taste too bad either.”

“I guess, but then we’ll need bread, and salad…” he paused for a second before sitting up, and rolling his eyes. “Fuck, listen to us. We sound like we’re fucking forty.” 

Otabek laughed softly. “I can get some bread on my way home from class.” 

Yuri rearranged the place settings for what must have been the fifth time that evening. Otabek watched him with a raised eyebrow and Yuri honestly didn’t even know what he was doing. He didn’t care about Otabek’s parents, they could go ahead and fuck off. 

“Yura,” Otabek began firmly. “Go sit down. You’ll tire yourself out at this rate.” 

Yuri grumbled, but plopped himself down on the couch and watched as Otabek removed the bread from the oven and began to cut it into thick slices. He knew Otabek’s parents were coming to  _ apologise _ but he couldn't stop himself from feeling nervous anyway. Was his dress too short? Should he wear pants instead? Oh God, what if they hated the soup. He should have cooked something else. 

Otabek's phone vibrated against the breakfast bar, a deep whirring sound that made Yuri jump. 

“They’re here,” he said, glancing at the screen. “Will you buzz them up for me?” 

“Do I have to?” he groaned. 

Otabek glanced over his shoulder at him with a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

He had never seen a more awkward hug than when Otabek hugged his parents before they came in. Yuri stood to the side, hoping that neither of them even took a step towards him; he’d sooner slap Otabek’s mother than hug her, or even shake her hand. Thankfully, a nod sufficed. 

They all sat down to eat with minimal conversation and although he caught both Otabek’s parents staring at his stomach, neither of them said anything. 

“Did you make this?” Otabek’s mother asked, looked up at him after tasting the soup. 

“Yeah, well, both of us,” Yuri answered, waiting for the complaints. It’s too salty, it tastes like water, not enough seasonings. 

She nodded. “It’s good.” 

Yuri nearly dropped his spoon. It’s  _ good _ ? That was probably the nicest thing she had said to him in a long while. He turned to Otabek, hoping he didn’t look as shocked as he felt. Otabek just shrugged, looking just as mistified. Fuck, she really must have felt guilty or something. And she fucking should, telling him he was selfish for wanting to keep his baby. Fuck her. 

“Uh, thanks,” he mumbled. 

They ate in silence for a few more moments before Otabek’s father dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and set down his spoon.

“We might as well start talking,” he said gruffly, glancing from Otabek to Yuri. Yuri swallowed, setting his spoon down as well and wishing that the dumb four-person table was bigger. It didn’t help that the baby decided right then to start bouncing around. “Absolutely no one planned for this baby,” he sighed. “But it wouldn’t be fair of us to leave you two out in the cold.” He glanced to his wife. “We will help you with some expenses, but this is your child and we expect you to take care of it.” 

Otabek nodded, silently looking at from his father to his mother as Yuri placed a hand to his stomach. 

“We’re not going to do all the work,” his mother cut in. “And you two have to show us that you know what taking care of this child means. What are your plans for the future? How do you hope to support it?”

Otabek swallowed noisily before taking a deep breath. “I… I got a job.” Yuri’s head snapped to him, and Otabek shrunk a little, hunching his shoulders as the tips of his ears turned red. What? When had he even started looking? Why didn’t he tell him? “I - I just heard from the place yesterday.”

“Doing what?” His mother’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

“DJ’ing,” he stuttered. And that was amazing news, honestly, Yuri couldn’t stop the smile that nearly broke his face in half, and he reached out to squeeze Otabek’s hand. But, the big fucking but, was sitting right across from them. 

“DJ’ing?” his father asked curtly. 

Otabek took another deep breath, squeezing Yuri’s hand back. “Yes. At a club. My advisor recommended the place, and he put in a good word for me. I work Thursday to Sunday, starting two weeks from now.” 

That was fucking amazing. 

“What does that pay?” 

Yuri nearly snarled at his father. Otabek squeezed his hand again. “1102.30 an hour. I work from nine thirty to three-”

“Three in the morning?” Otabek’s mother’s eyes widened. “Can you handle that with your studies? What about when exams come?” 

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” he said through a tight jaw. Yuri bit his lip. He didn’t, did he? Neither of them did. The baby was going to come no matter what, and they needed to be prepared. 

“We’re taking this seriously; we know that kids cost money. I have a job too,” he blurted, as his lungs twisted and collapsed. 

“Do you?” Otabek’s mother asked, as if she expected him not to. 

He ground his teeth together. “Yes, big surprise, right?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m an instructor at Victory Dance Studio.” Well assistant, but she didn’t need to know that. 

She nodded. “I’ve heard of that one. What about school?” 

“Uh.” Was that seriously not enough? And honestly school was the last thing on his mind right now. 

Otabek’s father cut in, placing a hand against his wife’s shoulder. “You should finish secondary school at least. You have one more year, right?”

“How? I can’t exactly go to school like  _ this _ .”  

“You will be tutored.” Again,  _ how _ ? They would barely be making ends meet as it is. A Tutor wasn’t even in the picture. “I will, pay for it, of course.” He cleared his throat.

Yuri blinked, not believing what he just heard. He also knew that Otabek’s father was incapable of smiling so he had to do a double take too, but there it was a tiny grin. 

“Uh, thanks,” he mumbled, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

He nodded again. “Otabek, I still expect top marks in all your classes, and once you graduate we expect you to work full-time. I will continue to pay your tuition and rent, but you will be responsible for all other expenditures.” Otabek nodded and swallowed. “And any medical expenses for the baby can be directed to us.” 

Okay, he hadn’t been expecting  _ that _ . Yuri rubbed his stomach.

“Yes, dad.” Otabek mumbled. “Thank you.” 

“How far along are you, Yuri?” Otabek’s mother asked. 

“Twenty-three weeks.” 

“So, more than halfway. Do you know what you’re having yet?” 

Yuri shook his head. “The doctor wasn’t able to tell.” 

She hummed. “I never thought that any of my children would be having a child so soon. I still think you two were completely irresponsible, but,” she sighed through her nose. “Let’s not make this a bad thing.”

Yuri had to fight not to roll his eyes; she was the only one making this into a bad thing. Both he and Otabek were fucking happy about the baby. Even Grandpa and Viktor and Katsudon were all fucking happy for them. His knuckles were white around his spoon, and Otabek nudged his foot. They fell back into an awkward silence, spoons clinking against their bowls. Yuri bristled silently. God, he fucking hated her so much. 

“Have you thought of any names yet?”

Names? How could she sit there call them dumb for having a baby then turn around and ask about fucking names? 

“Aren’t you two forgetting something?” Otabek asked gruffly, nudging Yuri’s ankle again. 

“Hmmm?” 

Yuri didn’t think it was possible for the tension in the air to get any thicker, but then Otabek started to grind his teeth. 

“You called Yuri some pretty disgusting names the last time.”

His father’s nostrils flared slightly and he cleared his throat. “Yes, our reaction wasn’t… appropriate.” He turned to Yuri. “I apologise.” 

Yuri swallowed nodding, his eyes flickering to Otabek’s mother. She was the one who had called him a whore, though. She sniffed, but didn’t say anything. Yuri clenched his jaw, looking away. Yeah, if she ever decided to apologise, he would never forgive her. 

 

“Hold on, what was that last one?” Yuri asked, running his toes up and down Otabek’s calf as he scrolled through another baby name website. Otabek’s parents were long gone, but he seemed to have baby names still on his mind. He had brought his laptop into bed with him and sat propped up against the headboard, reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Yuri was curled on his side watching his eyes moved as he scanned the screen. God, he hoped the baby got his lips too, they were full and soft and so fucking kissable. Actually, he hoped the baby came out just like him, a miniature Otabek, and then it would be perfect. 

“Arina?” Otabek asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I like it. What does it mean?”

“Peace.” A corner of his mouth twitched upwards. 

Yuri snorted, rolling back to his side of the bed. “Well, fat chance of that. This baby won’t stop fucking kicking me.” 

Otabek chuckled, reaching over to gently pat his stomach. “I’ll add it to the list anyway.” 

“Yeah. Put a star by it or something. Oh and Lev, for a boy.”

Otabek quickly looked up the name before sighing and tilting his glasses so he could stare at Yuri over the top of them. “We’re not naming our kid something that means lion.”

“It could mean brave or some shit.”

“This literally says  _ lion _ .” 

Yuri smiled. “Please?” 

“Please, no.” 

“Ugh, you’re so boring. I hate you.” 

Otabek grinned. “Really, though; you’re literally carrying my child, so...” 

Yuri’s cheeks heated as he laughed. “That’s only because you’re hot.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because I need a bit of visual reference sometimes, I’m basing Yuri’s growth and size on this woman [here](http://dreambookdesign.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/22weekspregnantbelly-488x700.jpg).  
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> I'll update this fic **every three weeks** so the next update will be on **June 15th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	12. Chapter 12

The doctor’s office was becoming so familiar that Yuri was sure he’d memorised all the posters. He was lying on the examination table again with his shirt rolled up to his ribs and gel smeared all over his stomach as Dr. Lebedeva held the ultrasound wand to his stomach. 

“So,” Dr. Lebedeva  asked with a smile, “Baby’s in a better position this time. I can tell you the sex now if you want.” 

Yuri held his breath, staring at the ceiling instead of the ultrasound screen. Yeah, they had to be in a better position with how much they’d been moving around. “You can tell?” he asked, his heart pounding and breath coming short.

“They aren’t hiding this time, and they’re much bigger too.” 

Yeah, he felt that one; the baby was growing like a fucking weed, some of his  _ shirts _ didn’t fit anymore and if his leotards weren’t stretchy he would have had a problem. He bit his lip, finally turning to the screen. His jaw almost unhinged with how fast it dropped. The baby wasn’t just a jelly bean any more, he could see a head, a face, legs, and a little round belly. His eyes started to prickle, and he covered his mouth with his hand. There was an actual little person, inside of him. 

“Oh my god, that’s… they look like a real person now!” 

The doctor chuckled. “Well, you’re more than halfway there, and baby’s growing just fine.”

“Are they still small?”

She hummed. “Well, let’s take into account your size, the father’s size, your age and the, uh, rough start. You  _ are _ going to have a small baby, but it’s not a problem. People come in different sizes, and as long as there are no developmental defects that’s nothing to worry about. Plus, a lot of growth happens  _ after _ birth.”

Yuri stared at the screen. He’d been a small kid too, but that was because of other reasons. He ground his teeth together. This baby would never go through what he did; he’d die to make sure of it. He’d kill himself before he ever let them get hurt. 

A tiny bump resounded through his stomach and Yuri gasped as the baby moved on the screen, looking like they were clumsily rubbing at their eyes. “More than halfway,” he echoed. “Um, so when am I…” his cheeks heated and a pang of nervousness shot through his body. “When are they going to be ready?”

“Your due date?” He nodded. “You’ll be due late February early March. I can give you a more exact estimate once we’re done with the ultrasound.” Their birthdays would be close then, he placed a hand to the top of his stomach, where Dr. Lebedeva  hadn’t smeared gel. “So, do you want to know the sex this time?” 

He would have liked Otabek to have been here for this, or even Katsudon for that matter, but he nodded; he couldn’t wait anymore. 

“What do you think you’re having?” 

“Uh, I honestly have no idea.”

“No gut feelings?” He shook his head. Was he supposed to? He tried not to squirm. “What about the father?”

“I… he won’t say anything.” Apart from Yelena making that comment about Otabek wanting a boy, they hadn’t really talked about preferences. It didn’t matter to Yuri, but maybe Otabek really did want a boy. All of a sudden he got nervous; Otabek had been suggesting a lot of boy names. They should have talked about this. “I dunno, I’ve been worrying about other things, I guess.” He bit his lip again.

He didn’t think it was possible for the doctor’s gaze to soften anymore until it did. “You’ve come a long way, Yuri,” she said, setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “None of this was easy for you, but you should be proud of yourself. The baby is healthy, you’re healthy and I have complete faith that it will continue this way.” His cheeks heated and he looked down at his stomach. “So, congratulations, you’re having a little girl.” 

A girl. A wisp of air escaped him, and there was a sudden flash of long, dark hair and huge brown eyes fringed by impossibly long lashes, little, pink tutus if she was interested in dancing, play dates with Amaya, and little stuffed animals or dollies. And Yuri couldn’t stop grinning, even when Dr. Lebedeva took yet another blood sample for something called a glucose challenge screening test, because gestational diabetes were an actual thing. He didn’t even care; he was having a girl. He rubbed his stomach as Dr. Lebedeva pressed a piece of gauze where she’d stuck him with a needle, and he smiled when he felt a series of soft kicks near his palm. A little girl; he and Otabek were having a daughter. 

 

“How did the appointment go?” Katsudon asked, sneaking up behind Yuri as dumped his bag to the floor in the staff changing room. He’d taken the train from the doctor’s office to the studio, knowing he’d be cutting a bit close to get to class. 

Yuri jumped, spinning around on the balls of his feet. “Fuck, were you waiting for me or something? When did you even come in?” Even though Katsudon didn’t dance as much anymore he was still light as fuck on his feet. Watching him sneak up on the kids was hilarious, though. 

Katsudon smiled. “I thought you heard me. That caught up in your thoughts, huh?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, pulling Otabek’s hoodie over his head and tugging it over his stomach. There was no hiding his pregnancy now, though. None of the instructors reacted much more than asking him a few questions, and being a bit cautious around him. Yuri wondered if Katsudon had anything to do with that. He’d also seen Ekaterina a few more times and she had tried to be polite about it, but the shock that had exploded on her face when he admitted it had stung a bit, even though he had caught wind of the rumors about him that were going around. Later that same evening he had to pretend he hadn’t heard a few of the girls from her class gossiping in the changing room. He had so much going for him, how could he ruin it like that? When everyone at the studio had worked so hard to get him to Saint Petersburg, how could he have thrown it all away like that? He’d gone home crying, but Otabek had been there and had brewn him a cup of peppermint tea and hugged and kissed him until he felt better, then reminded him why they were doing this together. He could start dancing again after the baby was born. He didn’t have to  _ stay _ a disappointment. And he was damn talented enough that he could walk into any dance company in Moscow and get a spot. So, fuck the girls and their gossip; he could dance better than any of them. 

“So, how did the appointment go?” Katsudon repeated, sitting down next to Yuri when he sat to pull on his shoes. 

“It was okay,” he shrugged, trying not to look like an excited child, bursting with news. “I don’t have diabetes. I guess that’s good.” 

There was a long pause before Katsudon sighed dramatically and shoved his shoulder. “Are you really going to make me ask? Did you find out the gender?” 

Yuri grinned, leaning back and supporting himself on his palms. “Yeah.” 

Katsudon raised an eyebrow, moving closer. “Yu-ri!” 

He smiled widely, nearly squinting. “It’s a girl.” Katsudon  _ squealed _ and Yuri never thought that he would have heard such a noise come out of him. “Oh my God, calm down.”

“No! Congrats! We’re having a goddaughter!” He pulled out his phone, “I’m telling Vitya-”

“No wait,” Yuri grabbed his wrist. “I haven’t even told Beka yet.” He’d thought about texting him, had it written out any everything, but sharing the news over a text message didn’t feel right. He wanted to see his face in person.  Also, “I think he wanted a boy, though.” He tugged at the hem of his hoodie.

Katsudon paused, wrinkling his nose. “What makes you say that?”

Yuri shrugged. “I dunno. His sister mentioned it, and he’s been suggesting more boy names than girls’, so…” 

Katsudon tilted his head sideways. “Well, to me he seems a bit more comfortable around Maya than Nikitok, although that might just be  _ Nikitok _ .”

Yuri snorted. “Maya is quiet, that’s probably the only reason. And she  _ listens _ .”

Katsudon chuckled. “Small mercies. But you never know, I don’t think Otabek would be disappointed, he’d love the baby no matter what.”

“Of course! He’d never…” Yuri trailed off, tugging at the end of his ponytail. 

“And you can always try again for a boy, if that’s where his heart is set.” 

Yuri punched him in the arm. 

 

Five-year-olds tended to be unpredictable sometimes, but Yuri could tell that there was something off the moment Sofia walked into the room. They were practicing on the barre today, going through the positions after Madame Ivanova had announced that they would start working on a piece for the studios’ Christmas recital. It probably would have been best to announce that at the end of class, because it was difficult to get them to concentrate and the room was full of excited chatter and stumbles. Except for Sofia, who had gone quiet and moved herself to a corner away from everybody else. Yuri had been winding himself in between the little groups breaking up chatter and reminding them to concentrate, so he didn’t see when Sofia fell. 

There was a soft thud then a short hush, followed by a soft giggle from another student. 

“Are you okay, Sofia?” the giggling girl asked and Yuri spun around hoping that she hadn’t hurt herself. 

Sofia was already getting back onto her feet, but her face was red and her eyes were watery. She looked around, mortified that everyone was staring at her, hiccupped, then bolted from the room. The chatter started back before either Madame Ivanova or Yuri could say anything. 

“Yuri,” she called after clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention back. He nodded not needing her to say anything else, rushing after Sofia. 

Sobs echoed in the empty studio C - the smaller room that was reserved for smaller classes like ballroom. Yuri’s heart clenched at the sound as he slipped in, and found her curled up in a corner, head in her arms. Yuri sat down next to her without saying a word and wrapped an arm around her. He had to hold a gasp when she curled into him, tugging at his hoodie. His hand twitched to stroke her hair and he thought back to all the tantrums Nikitok had thrown and how he always came to either him or Katsudon afterwards for comfort. Sighing softly, he stroked her head. 

“Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked once her sobs had turned into sniffles. 

She rubbed at her nose, nodding. “I don’t want to ballet.”

Yuri’s hand stuttered, and a cold lightning bolt shot through his chest. “Why not?”

“I hate it.” She tugged at his shirt for emphasis.

“Why… why do you hate it?”

“I’m not good at it. I want to go home,” she hiccuped, blue eyes filling with tears again. Yuri’s insides trembled, and he hugged her a little tighter. Only five and already she was losing hope, and okay, she was a little clumsy, but she was also one of the most dedicated and determined in the entire class. He had thought that she loved ballet.

“You are good,” he told her, licking his lips.

“I’m not!”

“Everybody falls, Sofia. I’ve fallen too.”

She looked up blinking. “Anya never falls,” she muttered bitterly.

“Well… that’s Anya’s problem. Everybody falls, I bet even Madame has fallen.” She huffed stubbornly. Yuri sighed. “Okay, well once I fell during a  _ competition _ .” Her mouth fell into a little pink ‘o’. “Yeah. everyone saw me fall too, and they got it on camera; they were showing it on TV. But you know what, I didn’t quit. It was a mistake.” It hadn’t felt like it at the time, he’d gone back to the studio afterwards and practiced the routine until he nearly passed out, trying to figure out what the fuck had gone wrong. “Everyone makes mistakes.” 

She was quiet for some time before she quietly mumbled, “I don’t hate ballet.” 

“I know, and you’ll get better at it the more you practice.”

“Really?” 

He nodded. 

“But I’ve been doing it forever and I still fall!” 

He tried not to laugh; she’d been doing ballet for a few months. “Well in a few years you’ll never fall. You get so good that you won’t fall at all.” 

“Really?” 

“Mmmhmmm. You’re a hard worker and I know how much you love ballet.” She smiled widely, showing off little, white teeth. Yuri gently patted her cheek, smiling back and the baby chose that moment to kick his navel. “And let me tell you a secret.” He rested his palm over his stomach, stroking it gently. Sofia perked up, staring at him with wide eyes. God, she was so cute. He went back to stroking her hair with his other hand. “I’m going to have a little girl really soon, and I hope she turns out just like you.” 

She gasped softly, looking down at his stomach. “You’re having a baby?” 

“Yup. After the Christmas recital, so you’ll have to show her how much better you’ve gotten, okay?” Her eyes widened and she nodded excitedly, looking like a bobble head. “So, let’s get back to class, you need to practice.” 

She scrambled to her feet, bouncing to the door. Yuri smiled watching her go and nearly rolled his eyes when Katsudon appeared from around the entrance and patted her on top of her head as she passed. He strode across the room and offered Yuri a hand as he braced himself to get to his feet. 

“I was doing rounds. Kulina said you were talking with a student.” He pulled Yuri into a side hug. “I overheard the last bit. I’m proud; you’re going to make an amazing parent.” 

Yuri shrugged as his cheeks heated. “I just… don’t like it when kids cry. It makes me think of when… my mom-”

Katsudon turned to hug him fully. “Don’t you dare mention that bitch in my studio.” 

 

“What are you doing this Saturday?” Yuri asked, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he bent to examine the different brands of butter in the dairy aisle at the supermarket. 

“Do you need me for something?” Grandpa asked, his voice a bit raspy over the speaker. 

“I’m throwing Beka a party, do you think you can come over?” 

“Of course, do you want me to bring anything? I’ll make some pirozhki.” 

“You don’t have to, I have all the food covered-”

“Don’t stress yourself out, Yurochka-”

“I’m not! Katsudon and Viktor are helping, and I’m going to make the cake tomorrow when he’s at class.” He had like three hours between the time his tutor left and when Otabek got home from class, he could have the cake made and bring it over to Viktor’s place to store it in their massive fridge. He would be fine. “It’s not going to be anything big, you know Beka. Just us, Viktor and Katsudon, Yelena and her friend, and like three of his friends from university. And…” he took a deep breath, setting down three packages of unsalted butter in his cart.  “And I have an announcement to make.” 

Grandpa was silent for a few seconds. “Did you find out if the baby’s a boy or girl?” 

Yuri grinned, warm butterflies coming to life in his chest. “You’ll have to find out at the party.” 

Grandpa chuckled. “What time do you want me there?” 

“Six.” He still had a few things he wanted to prepare and Otabek’s friend - Leo - had agreed to keep him busy for the day.  

Otabek had been anxious these past few days; he knew Yuri had found out the baby’s sex, but he hadn’t asked. And for once, Yuri was glad that even after all these years Otabek was still hesitant to be assertive. He was anxious to find out, but he would wait until Yuri was ready to tell him. He was going to tell him the night after the appointment, but then he realised that Otabek’s birthday was in a few days and the idea of surprising him was so appealing that he’d kept his mouth shut. When Otabek had stared expectantly at him over dinner, he’d nearly given in right then and there, but imagining his face when he walked into the apartment on his birthday and was covered in an avalanche of pink balloons made him shut up. Otabek would thank him in the long run.

Hanging up the phone with what must have been a dumb smile on his face, Yuri paused in front of the milk, trying to remember if he’d seen a carton in the fridge. Otabek went through milk like it was the only thing he drank, so maybe getting one just in case would be a good idea. He reached up to one of the higher shelves for the brand they usually got when a hushed voice floated back to him. He froze with his fingertips against the carton, the back of his neck itching.

“Look at that one, they keep on getting younger and younger.”

“Doesn't look older than sixteen. It’s so sad.” 

“They’re just so careless. It’s as if they don’t realise that their actions have consequences. Look at him grinning like he doesn’t even know how much work a baby is. And his poor parents are going to have to take care of everything.”

Yuri bit his lip, his stomach tightening and spine tingling. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself, but his throat was already tightening. 

“I don’t know what I’d do if my Luka came home pregnant.”

He ground his teeth, gripping the carton so tightly the edges bent around his fingers. 

“He’s a smart boy, that would never happen.”

Right, cause he was a dumb whore. How could he ever forget that? He spun on his heel dropping the milk into his cart and trying to ignore the stinging behind his eyes. It was as if the entire world was trying to tell him that he was wrong for wanting his baby. Fuck he just wanted to be happy, was that so hard to ask for?

He glared at the two women as he passed, making sure to curl his lip and snarl. The old bitches, they didn’t even know him. His eyes stung fiercely on the walk back home, and he kicked off his boots sending one into a wall as soon as he entered the apartment.  

“Yura?” Otabek skidded down the hallway at the noise. “You went shopping? Why didn’t you call me? You shouldn’t be carrying heavy things and - what’s wrong?” 

Yuri wiped at his face with his sleeve after he dumped the bags on the floor. Fuck, he was already crying. Otabek came up to him, slipping his arms under his coat to hug him. 

“We need to get you a coat that can actually zip up,” he mumbled against his temple. 

He knew he meant it as a joke, but it made his skin itch and he ground his teeth together.“I know I’m the size of a fucking house, God, do you have to bring it up?” 

Otabek flinched, pulling away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No,” Yuri snapped, shrugging off his coat. “I just…” he actually felt a tear drip from his eye this time. Fuck. “It’s just every time I go out somewhere some fucker has to say something about how I’m too young to be pregnant. Fuck, I  _ know  _ I made a mistake! I didn’t fucking want this!” He roughly wiped his eyes, looking down at his stomach and how it pulled the front of his shirt tight. “I just want to be happy that this baby is coming, but people keep on looking at me like I’m an idiot.”

“You aren’t,” Otabek said firmly, wrapping his arms back around him. “Just try to ignore them, babe. They don’t matter to us one bit.”

He knew he was going to get a lot more comments now that he was really showing, but they were fucking annoying and they hurt. He already _ knew _ he fucked up; he didn’t need a reminder at every corner. 

“It was a mistake,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut. 

Otabek’s entire body tensed. “A mistake?” he echoed softly. 

“I should be in Saint Petersburg dancing, you should be concentrating on your classes.”

Otabek’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought we were going to try to be like JJ and Isabella.”

His voice was so soft and small, so unsure that Yuri backpedaled, only then realising what he had said. His eyes widened and he reached up to cup Otabek’s jaw. Otabek held his wrist. 

“If you don’t want to do this, Yura,” he continued just as softly. “Tell me, and we can start looking at adoption agencies-”

“I didn’t say that!” 

Otabek cleared his throat. “We knew this was going to be hard, but I… you really think this was a mistake?”

“Of course it was a mistake! We didn’t plan this, Beka!” He stomped his foot, pulling away, but the spark of heat evaporated just as quickly. “But I… we’re keeping this baby, okay. I’m just fucking sick of hearing all the comments - and I know! I know they shouldn’t matter, but this fucking woman at the grocery store called me an idiot and she didn’t even know me!” 

“Yura-”

“Just shut up, I need to vent.” He slipped back up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling against his chest. Otabek held him tightly.

“Sorry, I should listen better.” 

Yuri took a deep breath; Otabek had showered, the smell of his soap was strong, overpowering his natural scent. He swallowed, letting his eyes fall shut. “I should have fucking cussed them out, show them how dumb I really am.” Otabek snickered. “You should have heard them, they fucking said the felt sorry for my  _ parents _ ! Fuck.” His arms tightened briefly. “Yeah, if they knew my mom used to fucking beat me, I’m sure they would have kept their crusty mouths shut. They don’t know shit.” He hummed in agreement, gently pressing his lips to his forehead. 

He let Yuri rant, holding him and kissing him eventually moving to the couch, where he rubbed his feet as he talked. And Yuri knew right then and there that even with all the shit he was going through, he’d made the right choice. 

 

Everything was going perfectly so far, Otabek just needed to get his ass home. Saturday had come quicker than he realised. Yuri stood impatiently bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looked around the living room. Viktor and Katsudon were seated around the dining table, keeping Amaya away from the snacks while she sat on Viktor’s lap, and talking to Grandpa. Yelena and her friend had taken the couch, and a few of Otabek’s friends from the university were at the breakfast bar. Yuri had passed around with a bottle of one of Otabek’s favourite red wines earlier so everyone had a glass in their hand, and he’d set up a playlist, especially for the party, using Otabek’s Spotify favourites to help. It had been a long day, baking, decorating, cleaning, making calls, he’d been on his feet since Otabek had left that morning. They were still throbbing slightly actually, even though Katsudon had bought him gel innersoles for his shoes. 

Katsudon and Viktor had come over earlier to help decorate, and Leo - Otabek’s friend from class had agreed to keep him busy for they day. The apartment was covered with pink balloons and streamers. Both Nikita and Amaya had been surprisingly helpful, cutting tape and running around getting things when everyone’s hands were full. All of Otabek’s presents had been wrapped in pink and Yuri had even decorated the cake with pink icing. He didn’t think he could be any more obvious for Otabek not to get the message as soon as he stepped through the door.

Tapping a baby pink fingernail nail against his phone screen, he checked if Leo had texted him anything. Other than the message that they were on their way ten minutes ago, there was nothing. He and Otabek had been at the university and it was a fifteen minute train ride from there to the apartment. There were actual butterflies in his stomach and the baby was jiggling about too. He almost felt like he wanted to vomit and it was kind of hard to catch his breath. So he bumbled around the apartment a bit more, before Katsudon pulled him down onto the chair next to him.

“Hey, relax,” he said, squeezing his shoulder. “You’ve done the hard part, now sit. Eat something, too.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, but grabbed one of Grandpa’s pirozhki from the plate in front of him. 

“You didn’t eat before?” Grandpa asked raising an eyebrow. “Yurochka-”

“I  _ did _ ,” he grumbled through a mouthful of dough. Viktor and Katsudon had made him, refusing to do anymore work until he took a break.

Grandpa nodded, tapping his fingers against the base of his wine glass. “So, I’m getting a great-granddaughter.” He smirked when Yuri wrinkled his nose.

“Ugh, don’t say that; it makes you sound so old.”

He barked a short laugh before draining the rest of his wine. “I think a girl might be a nice change of pace.”

“Unless she’s exactly like him,” Viktor hummed. “You’ll finally get a taste of what you put us through, Yurochka.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t that bad.”

All three of them snorted. 

“I took you to the mall once and you hid in one of the clothing racks for nearly an hour.”

“You tied all the shoes with laces  in my closet together to make a shoe bouquet.”

“You put all your stuffed animals in the bathtub and nearly flooded the bathroom.” 

Yuri scowled. 

“And when you didn’t want to leave the playground, you used to crawl into the middle of the tunnel so we couldn’t reach you and scream.” 

“You cut a hole in your teddy bear then cried when the stuffing leaked out.”

“And you used to cut your dolls’ hair then get mad when they turned out bald.”

“We had to hide all the scissors.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. 

“You used to love running around naked too. As soon as we undressed you for a bath you would take off; you’d end up outside too sometimes.”

“And, God, the hiding-”

“Okay I get it.” His cheeks were hot; he couldn’t remember any of that. He remembered colouring with Katsudon, and having to use his left hand because his right was in a cast, and he remembered Viktor coming over for dinner almost every night and Katsudon showing Grandpa and Babulya how to make Japanese food. He also remembered Katsudon taking him to the pool during summer and teaching him how to swim, while Viktor used to let him stand on his shoulders and jump off into the water - stuff that he could do with the baby and Otabek. 

“Yeah, you were a hellion,” Viktor mused, uncurling Amaya’s finger from the rim of a bowl of chips. “But you were almost cute enough to make up for it.”

“I was fucking adorable,” he mumbled, rubbing his stomach. The baby was going to be adorable too, even more adorable, actually. 

Grandpa nudged him with his knee. “Language.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes again, biting back a smile. Then his phone vibrated and he jumped to open the new message. “They’re here! They’re in the elevator!” They’d be there in less than three minutes; his heart was fluttering along with his stomach and he shot up from his chair. 

A sudden hush fell over the apartment, and Yui could practically feel the air vibrating in excitement. Even Nikita was bouncing up and down with his hands covering his mouth, and shushing Amaya who had yet to make a single sound. Yuri, couldn’t look away from the door, feeling his heartbeat somewhere in his throat. He tucked his hair behind his ears, and tugged at the collar of his black, jersey, dress. Why was he even so nervous? It was just Otabek. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen him that morning, and wished him happy birthday with a round of slow sex, and kissed him before he went to meet with Leo. 

The door knob clicked and swung open, Yuri’s breath caught in his breath as Otabek stepped into the foyer. He froze, eyes going wide when he realised just how many people were in the apartment and his cheeks and ears went red. Yuri ran up to the middle of the entryway, grinning with his hands on his stomach. Otabek’s gaze zeroed in on him in seconds and a small, bashful smile bloomed on his face.

“Happy birthday!” everyone called, and Yuri was grinning so hard his cheeks were starting to hurt.

Leo pushed him further into the apartment, and Otabek found his voice, and stuttering, thanked everyone. Yuri pulled him into a hug, pressing his cheek against his chest.

“So, pink?” Otabek asked, his arms tight around Yuri’s shoulders, and the room fell silent again. 

“Yeah,” Yuri bit his lip, butterflies going crazy in his chest. He tugged his hair behind his ears again, and looked up at Otabek. His eyes were glistening, deep, black pools with flecks of starlight.  “We’re having a girl.” 

Even though everybody in the room already knew, they still cheered loudly. Otabek wasn’t usually much for public affection, but he bent his neck and captured Yuri in a kiss so deep he forgot where they were for a moment. They swayed gently back and forth oblivious to the whistles and catcalls from Otabek’s friends. Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek’s neck, gently tugging at his shirt collar, while Otabek’s fingers tangled in his hair. 

“A girl.” Otabek’s smile was all teeth when the broke apart. 

Yuri nodded, his cheeks hot. “Yeah, we’re having a daughter.” 

Otabek breathed in deeply, a raspy tremor in his throat, before kissing him again, smiling so widely it was impossible to do anything more than soft pecks. They broke apart giggling, as Otabek tucked Yuri under his chin. 

“I love you,” he mumbled. 

Yuri’s chest was warm and tight, and when the baby kicked again his throat bean to tighten.

“Happy birthday Uncle Beka!” Nikita was tugging on Otabek’s jeans, and grabbed his hand when they looked down at him. “Come see the cake!”

Yuri chuckled watching as Otabek allowed himself to be pulled along by the six-year-old, after sending him an apologetic wince. He rubbed his palm up and down his stomach, as the baby continued her wiggling. 

“Hey, thanks for keeping him busy today,” Yuri said softly, glancing at Leo from over his shoulder. 

Leo was still at the door, untying his sneakers. He looked up and smiled. “No problem.” His Russian was heavily accented, almost impossible to make out even though he spoke slowly. Yuri could tell he was an exchange student by that alone. “Don’t tell him, but I had no idea it was his birthday; he didn’t tell me a thing, and it’s not on any of his social media pages.”

Yuri shook his head. “Sounds like Beka.”

“At least this way I can act like I knew,” he winked, finally finishing with his sneakers and coming further into the apartment. 

“Well, make yourself at home, I guess.”

“Thanks. Oh and congratulations.” He scratched the back of his neck. “On the baby. I, uh, probably should have said that first.”

Yuri shrugged, soothing the spot on his stomach that the baby insisted on kicking. “Uh, it’s alright, thanks.”

“Otabek’s really excited about it, her. Well as excited as he can be.” He chuckled and Yuri smiled back. “It’s all he talks about.”

Yuri’s eyebrows jumped, and he cupped his stomach with both hands. “Really?”

Leo nodded. “I’m really happy for you guys. I mean, I knows it’s kind of a weird situation-”

“To put it mildly,” Yuri snorted. “Thank you.”

Leo grinned before awkwardly shuffling up to Otabek’s other friends and accepting the glass of wine Katsudon had poured for him. Yuri had met Leo a few times before, but they’d never really talked and he now wondered why; Leo seemed really nice. In fact all of Otabek’s friends seemed really nice. 

He turned back to Otabek and Nikita just in time to see Viktor swoop in and grab Nikita right off the floor, tossing him over his shoulder. He squealed in excitement, forgetting all about Otabek and the cake. Otabek shuffled back to him, opening his arms out to wrap Yuri in a hug. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, nuzzling the top of Yuri’s head with his nose. “For all of this.”

Yuri grinned. “Well, yeah. It’s your birthday, babe.” 

He chuckled softly. “I knew you had a reason why you didn’t tell me about your doctor’s visit. This has to be the best present you’ve ever given me.”

“You think so?” he smiled 

“We’re having a daughter.” He felt the smile in Otabek’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update this fic **every three weeks** so the next update will be on **July 6th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	13. Chapter 13

The first kick strong enough for Otabek to feel had come only a few days after his birthday. He and Yuri been spending the night at Grandpa’s, lying in bed, Yuri between Otabek’s legs, leaning against his chest as he went through their list of baby names on Otabek’s laptop. Otabek was gently massaging Yuri’s stomach, his shirt rolled up to his ribs. 

“There’s just too many names,” Yuri grumbled. He couldn’t decide on anything. He really liked Sof’ya, but it was so similar to Sofia and he didn’t want to give his baby the same name as someone who he already knew so well. He’d deleted half the list, but then typed in just as many more because each website had more cool sounding names than the last. Like Vasilia meant fucking  _ king _ , and, especially if baby ended up an alpha, he didn’t see any reason not to encourage her to beat up all the boys. 

Otabek chuckled, kissing the side of his neck. “At least narrow it down to your top five, babe.”

“I can’t.”

Otabek kissed him one last time and Yuri felt when he breathed in deeply. He blushed and bit his lip, hoping Otabek wouldn’t notice. He’d been smelling him a lot lately, he he knew it was because of all the pregnancy hormones and stuff, especially since he was only a few weeks away from getting through his second trimester. Otabek commented at least once a day, sometimes twice, on how good he smelled. 

“Okay, let’s see what you have then.” He smoothed his palm over the bump of Yuri’s navel, moving down until his fingers hit the elastic waistband of his pyjama pants. Yuri breathed in deeply before letting out a long, content sigh. He could live like this forever, with Otabek rubbing his stomach like this, his hands were warm and soft, sending tingles through his skin. Baby, liked it too, wiggling around as much as she was he was surprised that Otabek couldn’t feel it. As if to prove him wrong, she kicked hard. Yuri grunted, wondering if he could bruise from the inside but Otabek had gasped so loudly, that Yuri had to turn to look at him. 

“Yura,” he began softly. “Was that…” the hands on his stomach had stopped moving, but the baby kicked again and again until Yuri made him continue with his massage. God, she was already so demanding. 

“You felt it?” he asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. 

“Yeah,” Otabek cleared his throat as his voice cracked. Yuri reached behind him to pressed the pads of his fingers against the back of his head, massaging lightly. “That’s, that’s really her.”

Yuri smiled. “Yeah. Wow, you can actually feel her now.”

Otabek nuzzled the side of Yuri’s neck, and Yuri felt his breathing deepen, chest expanding with each breath. Every time baby bumped into him, he gave a little jump. Yuri had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, while his chest felt so tight and warm that he had to clutch at the front of his shirt. “Is she normally this active?”

“She has her moments, but I think she likes your massages. I can’t believe you can really feel her now.”

Otabek laughed softly. “That’s our baby, Yura. Our daughter.” 

Yuri tired to peck him on the cheek, but the angle was awkward and he ended up catching his eyebrow. Otabek scoffed before straightening so that Yuri could reach his mouth. They kissed softly, slowly, and unhurried. Muted hums, the sound of their mouths against each other, and heavy breaths sounded around the room. Yuri’s eyes fluttered shut and he brought a hand up to cup Otabek’s jaw as the warmth in his chest multiplied. They kissed, neither in a hurry to take it any further, until baby kicked again and Otabek pulled away, all of his attention now on Yuri’s stomach. 

“I can’t believe this,” he mumbled, smoothing his thumb in circles around Yuri’s navel. 

Yuri chuckled. “God, she’s going to be such a daddy’s girl.” 

“You bet. That’s my little princess, Yura.” 

Yuri tilted his head sideways, bumping against Otabek’s temple, before his shot upright. “Hey, if you can feel her now, can we… get Grandpa before she gets tired?” 

Otabek laughed. “Sure-”

“Deda!” Yuri shouted, snapping the laptop shut, and carefullying swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Deda, come quick!” 

“Yura, you could just go to him-”

“Deda!” 

He got to his feet, and opened the door right as Grandpa came hurrying out of his room. And Yuri felt a spike of guilt when he saw his worried expression.

“What is it?” he asked, eyes wide. “Is it the baby? Did something happen?”

Otabek grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, Dedulya. Just-”

Yuri grabbed his hand, pressing it against his stomach and waiting for baby to kick again. “There!” he moved his hand to his left side. “She kicked; did you feel it?”

Grandpa gasped softly, a wide smile breaking out on his face, and he wrapped Yuri in a tight hug. Yuri hugged back unable to stop himself from grinning, especially when he heard soft sniffles. 

“Are you crying?” he asked, patting Grandpa’s back.

“Of course not,” he grumbled, wiping his eyes. 

Otabek got up from the bed as well, moving over to clasp a hand to Grandpa’s shoulder. 

“I’m so proud of you two,” his voice was still shaky when he spoke and he sniffled at the end. Yuri’s cheeks heated as he met Otabek’s eyes, and they held each other’s gaze as Grandpa spoke again. “This baby is going to have such wonderful parents. She doesn’t know how lucky she is.” 

Yuri bit his lip as his eyes started to prickle; Otabek was already red. “She’s not even born yet; she doesn’t know anything.” 

Grandpa swatted him on the back of the head. 

 

“Are you sure about this?” Yuri asked, biting his lip as he peered into Otabek’s Studio, at least what was left of Otabek’s studio. He had packed up all of his soundboards, the entirety of his vinyl and CD collections were packed into boxes, the posters were rolled up into cardboard tubes, and even the drum set and guitars were ready to be moved. It felt so  _ wrong _ . He couldn’t bring himself to move past the doorway, grinding his teeth as he placed a hand to his stomach. 

Otabek levelled him with a flat stare from the floor in the centre of the bare room, pausing in the middle of dismounting his keyboard. “Am I sure if I want to turn the studio into a _room for our daughter_?”

Well, when he put it like that. Yuri huffed, rubbing the base of his stomach, baby was sitting low today; he could feel her against his bladder and he’d run to the bathroom at least seven times that morning. They had talked about turning the studio into a bedroom once, and Otabek was the one who had brought it up. It made sense, but he couldn’t believe that he was asking Otabek to do it. 

“But-”

“It’s okay, Yura. The new studio is only three blocks away.”

“I’m gonna miss hearing you play.”

Otabek had always had some sort of musical section to his room; his black, marbled drum set in the corner by the window, his keyboard taking up most of the space on his desk, and the guitars stuffed into his closet. It had driven his mother mad; Yuri loved it. Especially, when he used to spend the night and watch him perfect some melody on the keyboard or scribble like a madman on the specially lined paper. He got this sparkle in his eyes whenever he had an idea and needed to write it down, and it was one of the few things Otabek allowed himself to be openly excited about. Not having a music room in the apartment was going to be like losing a limb. Maybe he could keep the keyboard, at least. 

Otabek gave him a small smile. “Maybe we can get an actual piano for the living room I can teach  _ Lidiya _ how to play.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “No. Yeah, if we can ever afford a piano. God, if Katsudon and Viktor didn’t offer to pass along Maya’s old things, I don’t know what we’d do.”

Otabek breathed deeply through his nose. “Don’t worry about that, babe.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You’ve only had your job for a week, don’t give me that. Anyway, need help with anything?”

“Uh,” his eyes flickered from Yuri’s face to his stomach. “I can do it by myself, it’s alright.”

“Beka.” Yuri grumbled. 

“So, are you going to pretend that nothing was wrong this morning?”

“Nothing was wrong-”

“Yura-”

“It was just those Braxton whatever things again.”

“You said those didn’t hurt before-”

Yuri bit his lip again, leaning against the door frame. “Yeah, well, they kinda hurt now.”

“Yu-”

“It’s normal!” He could see the panic rising in Otabek’s eyes. “The doctor warned me about them. Katsudon had them too!”

Otabek sighed softly. “Just, I don’t know, keep me company. I’m almost done anyway.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, finally slipping into the room and taking a deep breath of the empty air. It was for the baby, but it still felt almost wrong. Otabek shouldn’t have had to give up his space. He paused shaking his head and coming to stand above him. Otabek looked up, blinking and eyes widening in question. This was just going to be one of many changes; they were both going to have to give up much more. But baby was worth it. Otabek happily gave him his hands when he motioned for them and urged him to his feet. 

“Hmm?” He hummed as Yuri pulled him into a tight hug. 

Yuri shook his head, the side of his face pulled at Otabek’s shirt. “Nothing, I just,” he sighed. “We’re going to be parents.” 

Otabek’s hand was warm against his stomach. “Yeah.” Yuri could hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, we are.” 

“We’re going to be the best parents ever.” 

“We’ll try. I just want  _ Evgenia  _ to be happy.”

“ _ No _ .” Rolling his eyes, he set and hand over the one Otabek had on his stomach, urging him to start rubbing. “God, I’ll do everything to make sure she’s happy. I… I’m not going to be my mom-”

Otabek swallowed. “You couldn’t be her. Not ever.” 

Yuri breathed deeply through his nose. Otabek’s scent filled his lungs. He hadn’t showered for the morning, so his warm, spicy smell, with a slight tang of sweat from cleaning the room, was strong. He was like a flame. Yuri let his eyes fall shut. He was like burning cinnamon. He grinned, slowly licking the bit of collar bone that his shirt didn’t cover. Otabek jumped and hissed softly.

“Did you just lick me?” His face was growing red. 

Yuri laughed, stepping backwards. “What do you want for lunch?” 

Otabek’s hands fell from his stomach as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck, now bright red. “Uh, anything is fine-“

He was cut off by a loud buzz from the intercom, telling them that they had a visitor. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” Yuri asked, raising an eyebrow. Grandpa always called their phones because he didn’t know how to work the call box and Katsudon and Viktor were usually busy with Nikita’s karate classes and errands on Saturdays. 

“No.” Otabek frowned. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and his eyes widened a bit as he saw the screen. “It’s… Nasiv.” He sounded bewildered. “I… maybe my mom sent him over with something. Uh, wait here, I’ll go let him in.” 

“Just buzz him up.”

“He might not remember how to get up here.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, shoving him towards the front door as he made his way to the kitchen. Otabek’s family was the actual worst. Baby kicked his navel in agreement. 

“Yes, little jellybean,” he laughed and patted where she had kicked. 

Otabek returned a few minutes later, looking absolutely disgruntled as Nasiv complained loudly about the difficulty of one of his courses. The bloody show off. Yuri shook his head, setting down the knife he’d been using to chop up a bell pepper and stepped out from behind the breakfast bar. Otabek came up to him, giving him a look that said ‘help me’ and Yuri reached up to ruffle his hair, mouthing, ‘I know’.

Nasiv paused when he saw Yuri and the edges of his mouth curled when his gaze zeroed in on his stomach. Yuri wrapped his arms around his waist as the back of his neck started to itch. Nasiv’s eyes were the same dark brown as Otabek’s but they couldn’t be more different. They were cold and always made him uneasy. Yelena had said, in that blunt way she often did, that Nasiv thought he was hot, and may have had a crush on him a while back. But even then, the way he looked at him had always made him feel uncomfortable, judged, like he had been tested and had failed. 

“Wow, you’re…” Nasiv winced, biting his lip. “Really pregnant.”

“Yeah,” Otabek snapped, wrapping an arm around Yuri’s shoulders. “Didn’t mom and dad tell you?”

“Oh, they told me, but,” He eyed Yuri up and down one last time before shrugging. “So, you’re quitting dancing, right?”

Otabek growled softly as Yuri narrowed his eyes. “No. I’m going to start back after-”

“You think you’ll have time?” 

“I know loads of dancers with kids,” he practically snarled.

He hummed. “Yeah, but none of them are seven-”

“What do you want, Nasiv?” Otabek cut him off.

He clenched his jaw, glaring at Otabek. “Mom wanted to know why you weren’t answering her calls.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, looking up at Otabek. “What?” 

Otabek sighed, patting his hip. “I already gave her an answer. What else does she want?”

Nasiv’s jaw tightened. “I agree with her, though.”

Otabek rolled his eyes. “Of course you do-”

“Because it makes sense-”

“No, it doesn’t!”

Yuri looked between them, the skin on the back of his neck felt like it was moving now. He stroked his stomach just as much for his comfort as baby’s. Otabek and his parents had another fight? God, why didn’t he tell him.

Nasiv grumbled. “Okay, so now that you have a baby you know everything, right?” 

Yuri scowled at him, the urge to punch someone had never been so strong before.

“I never said that-”

“Any idiot can have a baby, don’t let it go to your head-”

“Shut the fuck up, Nasiv.” Otabek didn’t even sound angry, he sounded tired. “It does not make sense at all for Yuri and me to move back home with them.”

“You expect to take care of a baby yourself?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Yuri spat, ripping Otabek’s hand from around his waist. He would deal with him later. “That’s the dumbest idea I have ever heard. Why the fuck would we leave a perfectly good apartment for what, one room with a twin bed?” And he would rather die than live in the same house as Otabek’s mom. 

“You two don’t know what you’re doing-”

“And you’re the expert on fucking babies now? Do the teach you everything about childcare in your fucking doctor school?” 

“Yura,” Otabek set a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down-”

Yuri half spun to glare at him. “You shut the fuck up, too.” He swallowed, shirking back, and Yuri turned back to Nasiv. “If this was the reason why you came here, you might as well leave.” 

Nasiv raised his palms. “I just came to give my opinion.”

“We didn’t fucking ask.” 

He huffed, looking past Yuri to Otabek. “You know mom’s really stressed out, right? Just stop for a second and think how your actions affect the rest of us.”

Yuri was a split second away from slapping him when Otabek surged forward and grabbed both his wrists in a steel grip. 

“Or maybe she should stop and think about someone other than herself for once.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Otabek breathed deeply through his nose, letting Yuri’s hands go. “Meaning it would be convenient for  _ her _ if we moved back home. I’d have to travel further for work and class, Yuri would be at least a forty minute train ride from his Grandpa, and even further away from the dance studio he works at. We’re in a central area here, near a grocery, train station, pharmacy and hospital. Why would we move to a secluded neighborhood where the closest thing is a duck pond?”

Those were all the logical reasons. Yuri knew Otabek’s mom was going to try her best to control what he did with the baby. She wanted him under her thumb for whatever reason. 

Nasiv blinked before sighing and shaking his head. “I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“And Yelena is going to be in exam mode when the baby comes, I’m sure she’d love to listen to all the crying.” 

“Whatever, Beka. I’ll pass along the message.” He scratched the back of his neck, admitting his defeat. “Anyway, I bought you guys some  _ manti _ .” He held up a plastic bag with a few styrofoam containers.

Yuri bristled. Otabek’s family was the absolute fukcing worst. He was sure that he hated Nasiv right now, but he was glad he didn’t have to think about what to make for lunch now. 

Thankfully, Nasiv didn’t stay to eat with them; he’d muttered something about studying before he left. Yuri emptied out the dumplings out onto a plate, glad that he’d thought to get both lamb pumpkin. Meat had been making him feel queasy lately, especially if it was heavily seasoned as most Kazakh dishes tended to be. Otabek silently watched him, from his stool at the breakfast bar, like a scolded child waiting for punishment. He ignored him, heating the manti up in the microwave. 

“Yura-”

“You know why I’m mad,” he snapped, slamming two glasses against the countertop.

Otabek sighed softly. “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to stress you out.”

Yuri ground his teeth together, staring as the food slowly spun around. “Stress me out? God, Otabek,” he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You always fucking do this! Fuck, everyone’s always on my case for not sharing, but you, ugh. It’s always something, you don’t want to stress me out, or scare me, or make me worry, or angy. I’m not some kid you need to protect, damnit. I’m having you fucking baby, so why don’t you treat me like I’m, I don’t know, your equal?”

“Uh, sorry.” 

“You should be. God.” He huffed through his nose as the microwave beeped. “Look, if we’re going to raise this baby together, I don’t want to be kept in the dark. If your parents are giving you trouble,  _ tell _ me. Okay, it’s not just you alone.” 

Otabek sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry, babe.” 

He pulled the plate out of the microwave and set it on the counter in front of him. “The pumpkin ones are mine.” Otabek watched as he  took a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and rounded the breakfast bar to set next to him. Yuri rolled his eyes; he looked like a kicked puppy with his big sad eyes and slumped shoulders. If his ears were big enough, Yuri was sure they’d be drooping as well. He reached up to ruffle his hair before standing on his tiptoes to place a light peck to his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, poking at one of the manti with his index finger. “I just, know how much you hate my mom and I really didn’t - Yura, careful.”

Yuri flapped his hand passively as he tried again to climb up backwards onto the stool. 

“Let’s eat at the table,” Otabek suggested, but Yuri rolled his eyes and proved that he was still capable of basic motion when he finally sat down and kicked Otabek’s calf. Baby kicked him as he wiggled to get comfortable. 

“Yeah, but,” he sighed biting into one of the dumplings and nearly spitting it back out when steam rolled out from the centre. He stuck his tongue out and fanned it. “Yeah, but if she’s stressing you out more, I want to know. I need fodder for my hate.”

Otabek rolled his eyes. “Yelena told me she’s.... been telling all her friends about her granddaughter.”

Yuri snorted. “ _ Really? _ ”

“I guess she’s … happy.”

“Could have fooled me.” He didn’t know what to make of that. At least when the baby was born she wouldn’t be mean to her, but he also knew that this ‘happiness’ was only because it was Otabek’s baby. His stomach churned and he picked small pieces off of the manti he’d bitten into. 

 

When Otabek told him that he was DJ’ing on Saturday night, he probably didn’t expect Yuri to tell him that he was coming to see. He knew he was probably pushing his luck, because a night club was not the place for a thirty-week pregnant person. But Yuri would sooner shoot himself in the head than miss Otabek’s first ever performance. So, once Saturday night came around, he pulled on a almost sheer, white blouse and his one of his better leather jackets, and did his makeup before Otabek could try to convince him to stay home. 

He forgot the bartender’s name within ten minutes, but she had been nice to him so far, mixing him a virgin cocktail. Otabek had spoken to his boss and they had agreed to let Yuri in for the night. Otabek had only been working at this club for roughly three weeks, but he already talked about his co-workers like they were close friends. He’d been shadowing the house DJ for the past month, helping with set-up and clean-up, lighting, and sometimes helped at the bar. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying it; he’d come home tired and fall into bed most nights without even showering, but his eyes held a slight sparkle that told Yuri it was worth it. And when he asked how work was going, he’d grin and tell him how much he was learning from getting hands-on experience. 

But tonight, the house DJ was on vacation, or had business somewhere else, because Otabek had the stage for the night. He’d been a nervous wreck for the entire week, excited but nervous, even when he was getting ready to leave earlier that night, he’d spend nearly twenty minutes deciding on what shirt to wear and buttoned it up with shaking hands. 

“Your boyfriend, has some insane talent,” Bartender said, leaning against the countertop next to Yuri. “Yana is really hard to impress, and I’ve only ever heard her talk good about him.”

Yuri grinned, biting his straw as he watched Otabek making a few last minute adjustments on the stage, bathed in blue and purple lights. “Yana?”

“The regular DJ.”

“Yeah, that’s Beka. He’s always been really good at anything musical. He was probably too shy to tell you, but he has a really successful Youtube channel.”

“No kidding?”

Yuri unlocked his phone and pulled up the YouTube app. “Here.”

Bartenders eyes went wide and she laughed loudly. “That’s insane! I’m so showing Yana when she gets back. Holy shit, look at all those views! That little bastard, why didn’t he tell us?”

Yuri chuckled; he really liked this bartender. 

When the music started and Yuri’s grin was at the point of hurting. The club doors weren’t even open officially yet, but he already knew everyone was going to love him. He remembered when Otabek first started mixing music; and the afternoon when they’d been doing nothing in his room. Otabek had been on his laptop with Yuri using his calves as a pillow while playing some game on his Nintendo DS. He’d stumbled over his words when he asked Yuri to listen to his song, his face and ears red. Yuri had almost rolled his eyes when he saw the title, some top 30 hit that had been played to death and he was so tired of hearing. But when he had hit play, Yuri could honestly say that he had prefered Otabek’s mix to the actual song. He had forced him to show Grandpa when he came to pick them up the next day, who then told him about one of his old friends who was a DJ. Yuri grinned, remembering how his eyes had lit up and the barrage of questions that came next. It was the first time he’d ever seen that many words come out of Otabek’s mouth that quickly. 

It took less than an hour for the club to fill. And Yuri assumed that it was a popular place because the dance floor was packed with barely space enough for someone to slither through. From his stool he still had a good view and Otabek, glancing up at the crowd every so often he looked like a meerkat, Yuri scoffed. But he was worrying for nothing, he had the crowd and he had the skills to keep them. Tapping his nails against the countertop in time with the base, he was all light and giddy, even his heart was beating in time with the music. 

God, if only he could dance. Well he could, but he didn’t like the size of the crowd and if someone bumped into his stomach - he wrinkled his nose at the thought; twenty-eight weeks wasn’t the time to take any chances. He rubbed his hand up and down his stomach, and took a sip of his drink. Baby was moving around every so often, probably wondering what the heck was going on with all the vibrations and loud music. He chuckled to himself, patting the spot where she’d last jabbed him. A few people glanced his way and he glared back at them when he saw the shocked and judgy looks on their faces before he realised that he was heavily pregnant and drinking what looked like an alcoholic drink. 

Oh, right. But whatever, he didn’t have to explain himself to them. They didn’t matter, especially now that he could see Otabek starting to relax and really enjoy himself. He grinned to himself, playing with his straw. God, he was a damn good musician, and if his parents had actually paid attention to him he could have been so much better, but they had thought that Nasiv’s science projects were more important and that Otabek would outgrow his ‘hobby’. He was going somewhere with his music, Yuri knew, he was way too talented and driven not to. 

And there he was up on the stage, head bobbing in time to the music as he went around the sound controls. Yuri’s heart actually fluttered, and everything inside him felt so warm and tight. He could not stop grinning as Otabek became like literal fluid as me moved. Yuri thought his shyness was cute, but when he was in his element, playing music, a confidence bloomed in him chasing away every bit of his blushes and stutters. He loved this Otabek the best. The way his eyes would sparkle and go wide, and his lopsided grin, and how he’d move like no one was watching proud and unapologetic. Yuri only noticed that he was biting his lip, when he bit it too hard. Fuck, Otabek was just too damn hot like this. He wasn’t even going to deny that his breathing was suddenly shallower than normal. He fucking loved this man so much, and he’d never been prouder. 

He could listen to Otabek’s music all night, his only regret was that he wasn’t going to play any original songs, but even though the night was far from over he still felt fatigue creep up. He leaned against the bar top, propping the side of his head up with his palm. He’d been watching Otabek for almost two hours now. It wasn’t exactly midnight, but he hadn’t stayed up this late in a while, especially not when lately he’d been waking up almost every hour or took ages to fall asleep. 

“Hey, are you going to stay the whole night?” Bartender yelled over the music, seeing him hide a yawn. 

“Uh.” His head was already swimming. He hadn’t even danced, he had just sat on his stool all night watching Otabek and bobbing his head and swinging his feet.  “I think I’m going to head home soon.”

“Is someone picking you up?” she ignored the person waving at her for a drink. 

“Uh, no, I can get there myself.”

“No.”

“What?”

“There is no way any one of us is going to let Otabek’s  _ pregnant boyfriend _ go home by himself at this time of night. You can rest in the staff room.” She pulled out a phone from her back pocket and typed out a quick text. “Ilik, will show you the way in a few minutes.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“No problem, just sit tight and try not to pass out on me.”

He rolled his eyes.

Ilik was one of the bouncers and helped Yuri off his stool even after he said he didn’t need him to, and grabbed a bottle of water for him from behind the bar. He also left his phone number just in case he needed anything. The staff room was a small lounge area with a few tables and chairs, a vending machine and a long sectional sofa. The walls were decorated with band posters and album artwork, and the lighting wasn’t too bright, making it feel almost cosy. Otabek was really lucky he had gotten a job at this place. He eased himself down onto the couch, and grabbed one of the throw pillows to rest his head against, and kicked off his boots to he could put his feet up. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep like this, but it was better sitting at a bar stool, practically feeling all his blood pool in his ankles. Baby seemed to to be sleeping too, he hadn’t felt her move in a while. He yawned, letting his eyes fall shut and then Otabek was gently shaking him awake. 

“Huh?” he blinked trying to sit upright. 

Otabek smoothed a finger along his cheek. “It’s time to go home, baby.” 

“What?” he blearily looked around, “What time is it?”

“Almost two.”

“Don’t you have to help clean up?” he mumbled still trying to fight through the fog. 

“They told me to get you home this second. Can’t argue with the boss.”  Yuri scoffed, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. “Had a nice nap?”

“Shut up.” Yuri weakly punched his shoulder. “I mean I wanted to stay for the whole thing but-”

“It’s fine.” His hand found Yuri’s stomach. “Someone’s been keeping you up at night anyway.”

“Yeah, but you were really good. I wanted to see all of it.” Otabek’s cheeks turned pink. “I mean like really good, God, you should have seen the crowd, I mean, well, you did, but everyone was like freaking out. And,” he drew out the word, watching as Otabek perked up slightly. “You were so fucking hot up there.”

“Yura-”

“You were! If I wasn’t already pregnant…” Otabek was practically glowing with how red he was. “I’d tell you to take me home a put a baby in me, cause you looked so good up on that stage.”

He swallowed. “I just… well-”

Yuri surged forward, effortlessly finding his mouth and kissing him deeply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Deleted Scene ](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/post/175523378272/ashthe7th-rattle-my-lungs-chapter-13-deleted)   
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>  I'll update this fic **every three weeks** so the next update will be on **July 27th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning:
> 
> Not sure how to mark this, but there is a moment of worry where the baby's safety is at risk.

“Yuri,” Madame Ivanova said tapping him on the shoulder. “Yuu, uh, Mr. Katsuki  was looking for you.”

Yuri looked up, patting Sofia on the top of her head. She’d gotten her coat zipper stuck and getting down on his knees to help her had been a trial. His balance was off and his feet were so clumsy and swollen.

“Oh, um,” he glanced at the few students who were still waiting on their parents. It was his job to stay until they were all gone.

She smiled down at him and offered her hand to help him up. “I’ll watch them. I think he wanted to talk about something important.” 

“Important?” he echoed. He had to use both her hand and the bench to get to his feet and even that had him short of breath. Setting a hand on his lower back, he tried to hide the grimace as the muscle twinged. 

“Are you okay?” 

It didn’t work. “Yeah, just sore. Everywhere.” 

Madame Ivanova smiled empathetically. “Yes, it was like that with my second. I was sick right through.”

“You have kids?” He looked her up and down. There was no way he could tell; she was thin and fit, the exact opposite of him now. 

“Three; two boys and a girl at the end.”

His eyes bulged. “ _ Three _ ?”

She chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. “You’ve been my assistant for how long now, and you didn’t know? If you ever need help or advice with your little one, don’t be afraid to ask.” 

Yuri nodded. Well, it wasn’t like he and Madame Ivanova really talked outside of class. She was nice to him and all, and had been asking him questions about the baby, but she was like an adult, why would an adult want to be friends with him? 

“Thanks.”

She gave him one last smile before gently pushing him in the direction of the door. “Yuuri should be in his office.” 

Katsudon was in his office, frowning at something on his monitor. Yuri still didn’t know how to feel about him sitting behind a desk rather than dancing or instructing. He’d been in Saint Petersburg when he’d been formally appointed to the position of managing director, after the old person had retired. But he seemed to like his job regardless, and Yuri still found him floating from room to room and giving students pointers or demonstrating movements. 

“You were looking for me?” he asked sitting down. That was another trial, and one that had baby jabbing his lung. He grunted, letting out a woosh of air. 

“Are you okay?” Katsudon asked, already standing. 

“Yeah. Fine. She just punched me in the lung.” 

He winced, sitting back down. “Yeah, Nikitok used to use mine as punching bags. He liked sitting on my bladder too.” Yuri snorted. Yeah, Nikita was a menace even before he was born. “Maya used to crowd backwards towards my spine; I’m convinced she moved my stomach at one point.”

“It’s so weird,” he mumbled, rubbing the side of his stomach. “Like having a person inside of you. She’s touching all of my organs and stuff.” 

“It is,” he chuckled. “I never expected to have anyone stroke my lungs, or kick me in the liver. Feeling things on the inside… definitely mind-blowing.” Yuri nodded. “So, I wanted to talk to you about your maternity leave.”

“Huh-”

“I want to give you  _ at least _ three weeks before your due date, so that would be around February 11th. I’m not going to count that as part of the legally required twenty weeks so-”

“Wait, what? Isn’t this a bit soon-”

Katsudon paused, before reaching up to adjust his glasses. “Yuri. You’re thirty weeks pregnant. You are ten weeks away from giving birth. You haven’t thought about maternity leave?” 

“I… well,” he swallowed, ice dropping into his stomach. He’d fucked up again. “It’s just so many other things...”

It was all happening so fast. Otabek was already in exam mode and had been coming home later and later from classes and spending all his free time buried in a textbook or holed up in his new studio. Plus, Otabek’s parents had sent over an invitation for their New Year’s Eve party, which Yuri was determined to ignore, but still had to come up with a good enough excuse to ditch. 

Katsudon sighed softly. “Okay. Well you do have to take time off. And I think you need at least three weeks to prepare for when the baby arrives.”

“Is it that hard?”

“I wouldn’t say hard, but there’s a lot to do before then. Have you and Beka finished setting up the nursery?” Yuri bit his lip. The crib was still dismantled in the middle of the room; the instructions had been bullshit. “Do you have all the clothes and diapers ready? What about bottles, pacifiers, or a breast pump; I know I didn’t give you any of those. Have you started looking at paediatricians or for daycares or sitters? Or we can backtrack, what hospital are you going to when the time comes, what’s the quickest route, or how are you getting there since Otabek doesn’t have a car?”

“Wait, you want to know right now?”

Katsudon stared him dead in the eye. “Can you tell me anything at all?”

“Uh,”

“Three weeks it is.” He turned back to his computer.  “So that means your leave would officially start on February, ninth. And you’ll be gone until July… twenty-fifth.” 

Yuri took as deep of a breath as he could, suddenly feeling more lost than he had felt since deciding to keep the baby. God, could he and Otabek really do this? The world was already spinning; he clutched at the armrests, the metal armrests hard against his nails. What if this was a huge mistake; what if he had made the wrong decision? What had he been thinking, he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby. His breath turned even shallower, rattling in his chest. And Katsudon typed away on his keyboard, the clacking keys echoed in his head, loud thuds to match his heartbeat. 

“Viktor and I are free on Friday evening so you and Otabek can come over so we can make a game plan. Your grandpa should be there too.” Oh. Yuri swallowed. “You’re seventeen, Yuri. I don’t expect you to know all of these things, but you and Otabek should at least be thinking a bit more. This is not something you can just go with the flow, okay?”

“Okay.” He felt like an idiot.

“And do me a favour, look up lamaze classes when you get home tonight.”

“Lamaze?” 

“Yeah. You just nearly had a panic attack, we don’t want that to happen in the delivery room.”

Yuri swallowed, looking down at his stomach. Delivery room, right. 

 

Yuri realised, like a punch to the face, he didn’t know a thing. He had looked up Lamaze like Katsudon had told him and had spent nearly two hours trying to wrap his head around everything. He was going to have to push the baby out in less than ten weeks. He had stayed away from any childbirth videos, but he still felt sick, almost queasy. He was laying on his back on the couch and staring at the ceiling when Otabek walked through the door. It was his turn to cook dinner tonight, and he’d completely forgotten. Fuck. He didn't even want to think about cooking right now. 

“Hey, babe,” Otabek said, leaning over the back of the couch to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “What’re you doing?” 

Yuri swallowed, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Did you know epidurals don’t always work?” 

“Huh?”

“They jab a fucking horse needle into your spine, and if they don’t hit the right spot, like, anywhere can get paralysed. Like an arm or a leg, and you still feel every fucking thing where it hurts.” 

Otabek slid onto the couch and wiggled under Yuri’s head and shoulders, settling his head against his lap. He began to stroke his hair. “You were reading about epidurals?”

Yuri gave a short sigh, his chest clenching and stomach churning. “I was reading about  _ childbirth _ .” Otabek winced. “Yeah, that’s right, you fucker. I’m having this baby in ten weeks.” He sighed, resting a hand against his stomach. “Fuck. She’s too damn big.” 

Otabek leaned over and kissed his forehead again. “She’s perfect. You’re strong and amazing and you’ll get through this too.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not pushing a watermelon out of your dick-”

“That’s not where it comes out-”

“ _ I know _ .” He rolled his eyes so hard they hurt. “Anyway, Katsudon and Viktor want us to come over tomorrow so we can talk about some stuff.”

“Stuff?” 

He sighed again, closing his eyes as Otabek began to massage his scalp. “Yeah, like what hospital I’m going to, and about baby doctors and shit like that.”

“Oh. I thought we’d just pick the closest one.” 

“I guess, there’s more to it than that. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.” 

Otabek was silent for a while, continuing Yuri’s head massage. Despite all the anxiety crawling around in his stomach, Yuri felt sleep trying to creep up on him. He folded both arms across the fullest part of his stomach. Baby had been quiet for the past twenty minutes or so, sleeping. She had a sleep cycle now, or had for a while. Yuri bit back a smile. 

“I was looking at the name list between my exams.” Otabek began softly. “Do you want to hear my top five?” 

Yuri cracked open an eye. “Yeah.” 

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and tapped on the screen for a while. “Okay, there’s Vasilia.” 

Yuri grinned. King, he had starred that one. “We could call her Vasya, or Syunya.”

“I also liked Dominika,” Otabek continued. Yuri hummed, letting his eyes fall shut again. “And… I know you don't want a common name, but I really like Anna-”

“So boring,” Yuri grumbled. “But if you like it… I mean I don’t hate it. Fine we’ll keep it in the top ten for now.” 

Otabek chuckled. “Thanks, babe. And Arina.”

“The baby is anything but peaceful,” Yuri snorted. “But I like the idea of naming her something that means what I kind of want.”

“You want peace?”

“I mean, I don’t want to stress about everything all the time. I wanna be happy, and worryfree. So, yeah.” 

Otabek kissed him again. “So, baby Rina, or... Orya, or Arishka-”

“Orya. She’d be Orya.” 

Otabek chuckled softly and Yuri could tell that he was going to rest his hand against his stomach before he felt it. 

“My last one was Nadezhda.”

“Baby Nadeika. Ugh, I like all of those. Beka, you’re no help.” 

Otabek chuckled louder.

 

New Year’s came quickly and Yuri was suddenly waving at Sofia as she followed her mother out into the parking lot on the last day of class.The studio was closed for two weeks and Yuri had no idea what he was going to do with all the spare time. Otabek’s final exam had been last week and his marks had come out a few days ago. He had aced all his courses of course and at this point Yuri didn’t even know why he was worried about him when he was stressing over his exams like there was even a chance of him failing. 

A good enough excuse to ditch Otabek’s parent’s New Year’s Eve party came when Viktor asked if they could babysit. He and Otabek were planning on spending the night in with Grandpa anyway, but he had never agreed to something so quickly in his life. 

Katsudon and Viktor dropped Nikita and Amaya off at Grandpa’s close to nine. Grandpa had offered him and Viktor a glass of wine before they left for Viktor’s work party, and Yuri knew that Katsudon was trying to stall when he said yes.The kids were both sleepy, but Yuri knew that it wouldn’t last for long, especially when they figured out what was going on. He watched Viktor settle them on the couch, pulling a blanket over them, then turned around to actually listen to what Katsudon was saying. He had to do a double take when Katsudon took off his jacket, and still didn’t remember to listen.

Yuri could only hope he could get his body to look like that after the baby was born. Here he stood in sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and one of Otabek’s sweaters with his stomach so round and swollen that he couldn’t even see his feet. Katsudon looked like fucking sex on legs in his black jumpsuit with a satin-lined wrapped waist and wide-legged pants. He was wearing heels and he’d actually brushed his hair back from his forehead, and for once was wearing contacts instead of his glasses. Yuri elbowed Otabek roughly in the side before he started staring too hard and followed him and Viktor into the kitchen. Grandpa, had already poured out four glasses of wine and was waiting for water to boil for Yuri’s tea. 

“You… look… hot,” he mumbled to Katsudon, watching him grin around the rim of his wine glass. 

He actually looked surprised, as if he didn’t know how good he looked. “Uh, thanks. I mean the party’s supposed to be really fancy, so I dressed up.”

“He should dress up more often,” Viktor said, grinning.

Katsudon blushed, looking away and Yuri rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He could barely get them all the way around.

“I don’t know, it’s a lot of work.”

Viktor wound an arm around his waist, pulling him against his side, and pecked his cheek. “And I’d be more than happy to show you off to everyone.”

“Okay, I’m sorry for starting this. You can shut up now.” Yuri elbowed past them to the mug of tea Grandpa had set on the counter for him.

They toasted to the new year, to lame stuff like health and happiness. Yuri couldn’t even meet Viktor’s eye when he gave a long, sappy speech about the baby. Otabek pulled him against his side, gently but Yuri still stumbled on swollen feet, and kissed his temple. He added a few, quite words to the end of Viktor’s speech, blushing like a tomato, but he didn’t stutter once. 

It only took Nikita three seconds to sleepily snuggle against Yuri’s and place his ear against his stomach once he had settled on the couch. Yuri sighed softly, running his fingers through dark hair. Amaya had made her way onto Grandpa’s lap when he sat down on his arm chair. Otabek had offered to wash the wine glasses and tidy up the kitchen, but Yuri had left a space for him on the couch. 

“Is she sleeping?” Nikita asked. 

“No, Nika.” She had just kicked him in the stomach a few seconds ago. 

“I can’t feel her.” 

“She doesn’t move all the time. Even you have to sit still sometimes.”

Nikita sat up straight. “Nuh uh.”

“What about at school? Do your teachers let you run around  _ all _ day?”

He frowned. “No. But she’s not at school, so she doesn’t have to sit still.”

Yuri laughed, “She’s not a little monkey like you.”

“I’m not a monkey!”

“You look like one.”

Nikita huffed, pressing his cheek to the side of Yuri’s stomach and pouting until Otabek walked in with a tray of cookies and two cups of milk. 

“That’s for us?” he asked, eyes wide. Amaya also perked up, looking hungrily at the tray. 

Otabek chuckled at the back of his throat. “Didn't your Papa and Batya tell you? We’re having our own party tonight.” 

Nikita leapt from the couch, squealing and dancing. Yuri’s cheeks hurt from how hard he was grinning. 

 

Snowfall had picked up after New Years, giving Yuri one reason to be happy he didn’t have to go anywhere for class. He was wobbly enough on his feet as it was - nothing was moving like he wanted and his balance was shit - having to trudge through snow in heavy boots, or try not to catch a patch of ice was not high on his to-do list. Viktor had turned up with a coat that was large enough to button around his stomach, and had hidden Yuri’s old one so he had no choice but to use it. He didn’t even bother to hide the smug grin on his face when Yuri wore it when they came over for dinner later that week. 

It felt weird, sitting on the couch as Nikita tried to entertain him with some racing game on his tablet, while Grandpa and Otabek washed the dishes and cleaned up the table. Usually, Grandpa yelled at him to clean up. But he had seen the way his eyes had widened when Viktor had pulled his feet onto his lap for a massage. Everything was sore, his feet and back if he stood for too long, his back if he sat for too long. He still couldn’t breathe properly, and apparently blurry vision was another side effect of pregnancy. He guessed that having a Braxton Hicks contraction while everyone was eating hadn’t done anything to plead his case either. But Grandpa had huffed at him to sit still until it was time to head back home. 

Katsudon sighed heavily, looking down the darkening driveway through the glass panels on the side of the doorway then at his socked feet, as they were all getting ready to leave. “Ugh, I forgot to bring in the mail.” 

“I’ll get it,” Yuri offered, waiting for Otabek to get his boots back on. Grandpa was still inside chatting with Amaya. And they thought that _he_ was the slow one. He bounded out the door, grabbing his coat from the rack, and pulled it on as he trotted down the stairs. He only remembered they were icy when his feet suddenly weren’t where they were supposed to be. Then came the heart stopping-moment where he felt himself slip. A dreadful weightless feeling where he couldn’t control a single limb, or the screech that left his lips.

“Yuri!”

He heard Viktor’s yell before he felt the sharp edge of the bottom stair against his lower back, and he saw nothing but white. His hip and elbow were throbbing, but the rest of him was going numb. He almost didn’t see Viktor stooping down in front of him, and the blood rushing in his ears stopped him from hearing his questions. He hissed when Viktor wrapped his arm around his shoulders to help him up and tried to swallow the cold panic clawing its way through his chest. 

“Yurochka, oh God, are you okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer before scooping him into his arms and rushing past a pale-face Katsudon and Otabek back to the living room. Yuri bit his lip, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Baby was bouncing around, thrashing even, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Was she hurt? 

Viktor gingerly set him down on the couch easing him against the backrest but he grunted, angling his hip away from the seat. It was throbbing, radiating heat, but that was secondary to the cold lump in his chest. 

Otabek was at his side instantly, grabbing his hand squeezing tightly, and wrapping his other arm around his shoulders. Yuri slumped against his chest, breaths coming in short bursts that he couldn’t control.

“I… I forgot the steps were icy,” he mumbled, voice cracking. He was going to vomit. If the baby was hurt, God, he didn’t know what he would fucking do. He drew in a shaky breath, pressing his face to the centre of Otabek’s chest. 

“Did you hurt anything?” Katsudon asked sharply as he knelt down in front of him. Otabek gently kissed his temple, and Yuri realised that he was shaking. 

He swallowed, squeezing Otabek’s hand. “Just my hip and back,” he croaked. 

“The baby-”

He didn’t know; he had felt the impact all the way up his spine, so she - he shook his head chasing away the thought. “She’s moving - I think she’s scared.” He was scared. Katsudon stood up, leaning over him and gently lifting his coat and shirt up, before pulling the waistband of his pants away from his hip. His soft, shrap breath wasn’t comforting at all. Yuri rubbed his stomach, biting his lip when baby gave him a few more jabs. 

“Vitya, go start the car.” 

What? His eyes widened and he looked up at Katsudon. Otabek’s hand tightened around him.

Viktor hurried to the garage. 

“I’m not saying anything is wrong, but we need to get you to the hospital to make sure. Okay? Does anything in your stomach hurt?” 

He shook his head. His heart was painfully racing, though. Was this what a heart-attack felt like? He clutched at the front of his shirt, finding it harder to breathe with every second. 

“Okay, I need you to try to stay calm.”  That was impossible. “You landed on your back, so the baby is probably alright.”

Yuri swallowed and the sound of Viktor driving out of the garage echoed through the front door.

Otabek helped Yuri stand. His back and hip were still throbbing even more so now that he moved. He moved as fast as Yuri felt he could go, and made soothing sounds against his temple. 

“Papa?” Nikita called and Yuri glanced over his shoulder to see him still on the loveseat where Grandpa was holding him and Amaya still. “What’s wrong?” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Katsudon answered, voice turning to honey. “Yuri just had a little fall, we’re going to bring him to the doctor to make him feel better.”

Nikita’s eyes went wide, as Amaya started to sniffle. Grandpa, brought her to his chest. “I’ll stay to watch them,” he said gruffly, but his eyes were on Yuri, hard and worried. Yuri’s eyes were stinging now, and his throat had closed up. God, had he really fucked up again? Otabek’s embraced tightened again and he felt lips against his forehead. 

“Thank you so much, Nikolai.” Katsudon said, taking one of Yuri’s hands and squeezing.

“Yurochka, it’s going to be okay,” Grandpa’s voice was firm. “Remember to breathe.”

Yuri nodded, even as a hot tear dropped down his cheek, and tried to take a breath, but his chest felt like iron.

They rushed to the closest hospital, unfortunately Dr. Lebedeva’s office was closed for the night. The doctor that saw to Yuri was a willowy man with grey eyes and bald patch and calmly listened to Katsudon explain what had happened, before turning to Yuri and pressing a stethoscope to his stomach. Yuri held his breath, squeezing Otabek’s hand. Otabek hadn’t said a word since he’d fallen, just stared wide-eyed at nothing, and hugged Yuri tight. His arm was sandwiched between Yuri’s back and the examination bench, but he didn’t seem to care. 

The doctor was mostly silent as he checked the baby’s vitals, only asking Yuri to lift up his shirt when he had to smear the gel for the ultrasound on his stomach. Yuri screwed his eyes shut as he moved the wand along his stomach, pausing briefly every so often then moving to a new spot. Yuri held onto Otabek’s hand like it was a lifeline, and bit his lip until Otabek kissed his cheek and mumbled for him to stop. He still couldn’t breathe, his heart jumping and his stomach was tight and heavy. Baby was still moving, but her punches and kicks were much softer and less frequent. Yuri didn’t know what to make of that, and steel fingers wrapped around his heart. 

“The baby seems fine,” the doctor said, after an eternity. There was a rush of air and the entire room sagged in relief. Katsudon, hunched over in his seat, holding his head, and Yuri heard Otabek swallow loud and clear. “Her heart rate is slightly elevated, but that’s to be expected. You can calm down now, mommy, the baby can pick up on your distress.” Yuri breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing his death grip on Otabek’s hand. “You took the brunt of the fall, trust me, it may not look or feel like it but your stomach is the best protection she can get. The baby is surrounded by amniotic fluid, which helps absorb shock, as well as the muscle of your uterus and abdominal cavity bones. She’s safe and sound. Especially since you landed on your back, not your front.” 

Yuri let his eyes fall shut, tiny relieved tears leaking from under his eyelids. She was okay. Nothing was wrong. Otabek smoothed his thumb across his knuckles, and pressed his lips to his temple. She was fine. Yuri let out a relieved breath that sounded like an uneasy chuckle, and reached up wipe his eyes. Otabek hugged him tighter, rubbing his hand up and down his shoulder. 

The doctor gave them a minute before he continued. “But I would still suggest you taking it easy for the next few days. If at all possible stay off your feet for the next day or two.” 

They stayed at Grandpa’s that night. He had hugged Yuri for nearly three minutes when they got back to Viktor’s and told him the news. Yuri couldn’t feel baby moving anymore, she was probably exhausted, and he felt the same. Grandpa bustled around the kitchen as soon as they had got home, making tea and searching out an old hot water bottle for Yuri’s back. Katsudon had sent giant jar of tiger balm with them and it was Otabek’s job to rub it into his back later, after a bath in the tiny tub in Grandpa’s bathroom. The bruises were already starting to form and Yuri paused staring at himself in the mirror as he tapped his hip. The worst of it was on the side of his hip, a swollen, red patch with shallow grazes, that spread out to his lower back. He bit his lip, eyes prickling again. 

God, he could have seriously hurt the baby. He was so fucking lucky. He smoothed his palm along his stomach, breathing as deeply as he could. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he mumbled. “You must have been so scared. I’m never going to do that to you again.” 

He was extra careful getting into the bathtub, hissing through his teeth as the warm water stung the grazes on his hip. He massaged his stomach, tipping his head back against the blue, tiled wall and closed his eyes. Every inch of his body felt like lead. 

“I know you must be exhausted, baby,” Otabek said softly, and Yuri cracked an eye open to see him kneel on the mat beside the tub. “But you can’t sleep here.” 

Yuri hummed, closing his eyes again. “I’m not.” He opened them again when Otabek cupped his cheek. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Tired.” Yuri sighed, hands stilling on his stomach. But that’s not what Otabek meant. “I could have really hurt her, Beka.”

“She’s fine, the doctor said she was fine.” 

He swallowed. “I don’t know what I would have done if she…” he trailed off unable to say it.

Otabek smoothed his hair away from his face, and covered Yuri’s hands with his palm. His sleeve was getting wet, but he obviously didn’t care. “You don’t have to think about that.” He rubbed circles into Yuri’s belly with his thumb. “You don’t ever have to think about that. Orya’s fine.” 

It took Yuri a second to realise what he’d said. He mind was still reeling, but then something sank into his stomach and Otabek’s words pierced a small, warm hole in all the worry. “Orya?” A smile cracked his face when Otabek gasped softly and covered his mouth. “Is that your favourite?” 

He nodded slowly as his cheeks turned red. Focusing on Yuri’s stomach, he cleared his throat softly. “I’ve been calling her that in my mind for a while now, but I wanted you to choose-”

“Then that’s her name.” 

Otabek’s eyes snapped to Yuri’s face. They were wide and, Yuri just realised, slightly pink. “Are you sure?” 

He nodded, cupping Otabek’s jaw and smoothing his thumb along his cheek bone.  “Yeah. Arina. Orya. That’s the one.” 

Yuri eased himself onto his good hip so he could lean over the edge of the tub to kiss him fully on the mouth. Otabek melted into him, cupping the back of his neck and the side of his stomach. Goosebumps formed along Yuri’s arms as he wrapped them around Otabek’s neck. The sound of their mouths moving echoed around the bathroom. God, he loved this man so much. His chest almost felt like it was seizing when Otabek prodded at his bottom lip with his tongue. It was bizarre how he could feel Otabek’s relief from a kiss. He could tell how worried and scared he had been, trying to be strong for the both of them. He could tell how it had all shattered when they found out that baby - that Orya was okay. Yuri kissed him hard. 

 

It was weird enough that Yuri’s tutor came to him, it was even weird when they had their lesson in the bedroom. Yuri sat in bed, propped up against the headboard with like ten pillows and a textbook on his lap. Sitting down on the wooden chairs at the dining table still hurt his back, and getting up onto the bar stools was out of the question now. The tutor had been nice enough to suggest they do the lesson in the bedroom, especially since Yuri had gotten a seventy-eight on his last maths test - it was his highest mark yet and he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face for the entire lesson. The next time he would get an eighty for sure. 

He hobbled down the hallway to Orya’s room once the tutor had left, holding his graded test in one hand. Otabek had finished setting up the crib and was strategically placing purple owl decals on the wall above the changing table. He hoped down from the step-stool and wrapped an arm around Yuri’s waist, guiding him into the room.

“What do you think, babe?” 

“I love it.” A part of him still missed the studio, but Otabek had worked so hard setting up the room, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Otabek had started a baby board on Pinterest, looking up ways to decorate the nursery as soon as he was done with his exams. He was a giant sap, but Yuri loved every minute of it. He had gotten green curtains to cover the ugly blinds and went out and bought purple, polka-dotted mattress cover, matching cushions for the rocking chair, a pad for the changing table, diaper holder, and even towels and washcloths. 

“Good.” 

Yuri rested his head against his shoulder, smiling. So, maybe things were finally working out after all. 

 

Yuri didn’t want to hear Otabek’s mother’s voice the first thing after he got up from his nap. He didn’t want to ever hear her voice for that matter. Already he felt a headache building behind his eyes as he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and prepared himself to stand. His back was always so sore lately, and it had nothing to do with the yellowing bruise there. He groaned, getting to his feet, like a bloated penguin and waddled down the hallway to the living room. 

Otabek’s parents were seated at the dining table while he sat at the breakfast bar. Yuri didn’t even pretend to listen to what his mother was ranting on about now, as he headed over to Otabek’s side, covering his mouth when he yawned. It was probably only a matter before they turned up at the apartment. They hadn’t gone to the New Year’s party, and Yuri had sent Otabek to them alone on Christmas day for a few hours, while he spent the day with Viktor, Katsudon, and Grandpa. 

“Yura,” Otabek said, hopping off the stool and leading him over to the couch. “Sorry, did we wake you?” 

Yuri grumbled and held Otabek’s hand to steady himself as he sat down. Otabek sighed roughly before turning back to his parents.

“Look at him,” his mother started before he could even open his mouth. “He can barely walk.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, before shifting on the couch so he could face her. “Yeah, that’s cause I’m seven months pregnant.” Well, thirty-five weeks. He sneered before turning to Otabek demanding an explanation.

“I already told you, Mom, we’re not moving back home.”

This shit again? Yuri ground his teeth together. 

“But, Otabek-”

“No!” Yuri spat, banging his fist against the edge of the backrest. Otabek jumped and his mother’s eyes widened slightly. “I’m not moving anywhere!” Orya tapped the spot behind his navel, and Yuri took a deep, breath as he rubbed his stomach. “I’m not moving. Especially not to a place so far away from everything.”

“If there’s an emergency with the baby, we can drive you to the hospital,” Otabek’s dad said calmly.

“Yeah," Otabek grumbled. "But even then, we’d have to wait for you to get back home then bring us wherever. And you’d have to take time off from work.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with him being here,” his mother snipped, narrowing her eyes at Yuri. “What if he falls again and loses the baby?”

Yuri took another calming breath. It didn’t work. Still, his heart began to race, and the couch felt like was was swaying beneath him. He smoothed his palm against his stomach to remind himself that Orya was still in there. She was okay. Nothing was going to happen to her. He swallowed bitter, and clenched his jaw tightly. And she just said something like that, like it was no big deal. The hand on his stomach was shaking, and he was angry enough to see red. He could just go over there and strangle her, slap her across the face and kick her out on her ass. But he breathed out through his nose, and stroked his belly. Orya was safe.

“I only fell because the stairs were icy. And a few months ago you were pushing me and Beka to be fucking adults and now you want us to move in with you like we’re children? So you can tell us what we can or can’t do? How are we supposed to be adults if you keep hovering like a fucking vulture?” Orya, unhappy with his outburst, starting bouncing around and wiggling. 

“I won’t have you put my granddaughter in danger.”

“She’s  _ my daughter _ . My daughter that you wanted me to abort, or did you conveniently forget?”

The air in the room thickened. Yuri glared at Otabek’s mother, at Sabria - he wasn’t going to acknowledge any relation to her anymore - daring her to say anything. 

“They have a point, Sabria,” Otabek’s father began, running his hand through his hair. “We should let them be."

He could hear her grind her teeth from the couch. “I’m not going to let him bully me-”

“Yuri, do you think you can ask your grandfather to stay with you while Otabek is at class? We would hate to have something happen to the baby, especially not after everything.”

Yuri swallowed, now trying to calm Orya down, rubbing slow, gentle circles against his stomach. “I’ll ask him.”

Otabek sat down next to Yuri, deflated. 

“See that you do. Sabria, it’s time to go.”

Yuri watched them stand and head over to the coat rack for their jackets. “Her name is Orya.” He didn’t know what possessed him to even say anything. “Arina, but we’re going to call her Orya.”

“Arina,” Sabria began, a slight wrinkle to her nose.

“It’s a good name,” Otabek’s dad cut her off, handing her her coat. 

“I don’t get it,” Yuri mumbled after they left. He snuggled against Otabek’s side, running his fingers over the knuckles of the hand he hand slung around his shoulders. “Like your dad can have his head up his own ass most of the time, but your mother is a complete bitch. How are they even together?”

Otabek shrugged. “It’s always been like that. To be honest, I think she gave my dad an ultimatum, and at that time he already had the money, the job, the car, all he needed was a hot wife. My grandmother doesn’t like her very much; she thinks she’s too fake and full of herself.”

“I need to meet her,” Yuri chuckled. 

“You’ll probably get along pretty well, actually. But she’s back in Kazakhstan. We haven’t spoken in a while.”

“They should get divorced already.”

Otabek sighed. “They won’t. My mom won’t let them, and he probably thinks it isn’t worth the hassle or social drama.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but she sucks.”

Otabek scoffed. “I know. But I promise you that you won’t have to deal with her more than necessary. If she wants to see Orya when she’s born, she’ll have to come here.” 

Yuri breathed through his nose, nuzzling against Otabek’s jaw. Otabek kissed his temple. “Oh please, she’s not getting within ten feet of my baby.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually draw big moments like these from real life experience. One of the professors I was a TA for fell when she was weeks away from her due date. A really scary moment but both she and her baby were completely fine.  
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> [ Yuuri's jumpsuit ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/4e/e3/a2/4ee3a24fe2f500538df2d23ded3d4346.jpg)  
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> I'll update this fic **every three weeks** so the next update will be on **August 17th** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I’m updating super early this week, because I had to chop this chapter in half (and I'm going to be too busy to post tomorrow night), so I’m rescheduling the remaining chapters.  
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> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Discussion of child abuse  
> \- Childbirth, not necessarily graphic, but no sugar-coating either

Yuri knew that something was going to happen that day; he just didn’t know exactly what. He didn’t wake up until noon, which wasn’t a surprise because Orya had been having a dance party in his stomach until about three then heartburn had decided to join in. He woke up groggy, with a pulsing tightness in his stomach, and fuzzy vision. It took him a few tries to sit up, and was silently thankful when Otabek rushed in from the bathroom to help him. He let out a deep breath, finally able to now that Orya had dropped into his pelvis and was happily upside down, and Otabek sat down next to him, smoothing a mass of tangled hair away from his temple for a soft kiss. Yuri hummed, wanting to go back to sleep, but at the same time fighting to wake up fully.

“Morning,” Otabek mumbled against his temple. He smelled strongly of soap, and Yuri wrinkled his nose.

Yuri grunted, blinking hard and slumping against his chest. He sighed, staying still for a moment before preparing himself to stand. “I need to pee.”

Otabek chuckled softly, standing up and holding out his hands. Yuri couldn’t wait until he could stand up and sit down on his own again, walk properly, and for the swelling in his feet to go away. Only three more weeks to go until his due date. Katsudon had warned him he’d be uncomfortable during the later stages of pregnancy, but even that was an understatement. Otabek had to help him sit down on the toilet, that was enough of a reason for him to want Orya out at that very moment. Also, the nausea had started back up again. It wasn’t as bad as it had been when he’d first gotten pregnant, but he was still running to the bathroom and leaning over the toilet at random times throughout the day.

Once again, Katsudon had been right. The three weeks off from classes were going to be a blessing. Yesterday the kids had all circled around in a group hug chatting excited about how the baby would be here when he came back. Sofia had kissed his belly before her mother had picked her up, and Yuri rubbed the spot with his thumb as Orya wiggled. Still, not only was he glad that he didn’t have to waddle around the studio next week, but there had been an itching at the back of his mind, telling him to go from room to room, and re-organise everything in sight. While Otabek was at class the same evening, he went through each room. The cupboards were all wrong, the bathroom mats needed to be changed, there weren’t enough blankets on the bed, and the living room furniture was offsetting. He’d sorted through the closet, only realised that he’d pulled on one of Otabek’s jackets when Otabek pointed it out when he came home. And, no matter how many times he’d organised the tiny onesies, shirts, and socks in Orya’s, drawers they weren’t _perfect_.  

“Not feeling so good?” Otabek asked as Yuri squeezed a dollop of toothpaste onto his toothbrush after staring at the tube for a while. Something was definitely weird. Maybe it was just his messed up sleep schedule, but there was an odd soreness in his stomach and lower back.

He shook his head. “Just feeling a bit _off_ today.”

“Off?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed shortly, looking down at the sink. “I know we were supposed to get extra mattress covers for the crib today, but-”

“Hey, if you’re not feeling well we can do it tomorrow. Let’s just rest up today.”

Yuri nodded, shoving his toothbrush into his mouth just as his stomach tightened again. He was used to Braxton Hicks contractions feeling extremely tight, borderline painful, so he just grunted and rubbed the base of his stomach, pacing and waiting until it stopped.

Otabek stared him down. “Babe?”

It passed quickly enough and he spat out a mouthful of foam into the sink. “I’m okay.”

Otabek made him a small breakfast, well lunch, and a mug of tea, and they sat down on the couch for a movie marathon. Snow was falling softly onto the balcony beyond the open curtains of the living room door. It could have been the perfect lazy Saturday, but another Braxton Hicks contraction had him standing up and pacing around the living room after his second bite of scrambled eggs.

“Yura,” Otabek watched him. He had froze in place when Yuri snapped at him to sit down and not follow him like a lost duckling.

“I’m fine. It’s just a Braxton Hicks; it’ll go away soon.”

Otabek bit his lip, but gave him a quick peck on the cheek when he sat back down.

Yuri snuggled up to Otabek’s side, pushing his empty plate and mug to the other end of the couch after a few minutes, and pulled a fleece blanket up to his neck. Otabek slung an arm around his shoulders, pressing the play button on the remote. They didn’t get far into the movie when Yuri’s stomach tightened after Orya trailed her arm in a line down his stomach.

“Fuck, again?” he huffed, preparing to stand up.

“Yura,” Otabek began slowly, rubbing his waist. “Are you sure those are Braxton Hicks?”

Yuri paused, holding his stomach and taking deep breaths as something drained down into his lungs. “What?” The room was suddenly ten degrees colder and he narrowed his eyes, not allowing himself to think.

Otabek swallowed. “This is the third one in less than an hour.”

“You think it’s _labour_?” Yuri licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry and rough. “I have three more weeks, Beka.”

“I know, but Dr. Lebedeva told us to be prepared in case-”

Yuri bit his lip, shaking his head. “I have three more weeks.”

Even if Dr. Lebedeva had said that Orya was perfectly healthy, developing completely normally, and had even put on a bit more weight than expected the past week, he still had _three more weeks._ She had warned them to be alert during the few weeks leading up to his due date. But it was too soon; Orya was barely four pounds. As much as he tried, he couldn’t concentrate on the movie anymore. He rubbed his belly anxiously; this couldn’t really be actual contractions. It couldn’t be labour. Every so often Orya would bump something, an he’d bite his lip a bit harder. Otabek was smoothing his arm along his shoulders, staring at the television, but Yuri knew he wasn’t paying attention either. The air in the room was buzzing, and Yuri’s skin was static.

It wasn’t Braxton Hicks contractions. Another one came a few minutes later. Yuri’s eyes started to prickle and his chest was seizing. Was this really it? Braxton Hicks weren’t supposed to happen so regularly. No, he had three more weeks. Orya wasn’t supposed to come yet. Otabek’s arm tightened around his shoulders, and he peppered his cheek and temple with soft kisses. Yuri wiped at his eyes before the tears could fall and tried to take deep, even breaths. It wasn’t happening; even when the contraction stopped he couldn’t catch his breath. Oh, God it was way too soon.

“Beka,” he whimpered. “Call Katsudon.”

He scrambled for his phone, and Yuri shut his eyes, listening as he padded into the bedroom for it. He had three more weeks; it was too early, Orya was still too small. He pulled the blanket over his head, and held his stomach.

“Orya, please, no. Not now,” he whispered. She bumped against his palm and a choked hiccup escaped his lungs.

“Yuuri? Hi,” Otabek’s voice floated from the bedroom. “Uh, I think Yura’s gone into labour.” He bit his lip; he wasn’t going to cry. “Uh yeah, we thought they were Braxton Hicks at first - yeah… around twenty minutes, maybe… like thirty- forty seconds each.” He _wasn’t_ going to cry. “Okay, thanks. I’ll tell him.”

Yuri’s heart was in his throat, everything was spinning and his hands  were cold. Otabek hugged him, sitting back down on the couch and uncovering his head. “Katsudon’s on his way.” He kissed his temple. “He says try to stay calm and relax.”

Yuri chewed his lip, finding Otabek’s hand and squeezing. “She’s too small, Beka,” he breathed, holding his stomach with his other hand.

Otabek kissed him again. “She’ll be fine. Don’t worry, baby. Everything will be okay.” Yuri leaned into him, pressing his forehead against his collarbone, and breathed in deeply. He still smelled of soap, not what he needed at all. Otabek hugged him. “Just relax. Do you want me to call Grandpa?”

He nodded and felt as Otabek moved to pick up his phone again. “ _Dedulya_ ,” he began, rubbing slow circles into Yuri’s back. “Yura’s gone into labour.” Hearing it the second time made it worse. He tried to cry as silently as possible into Otabek’s shirt. It was just too soon.

Katsudon barged into the apartment as soon as Otabek opened the door and marched over to Yuri on the couch, kneeling down in front of him and taking his hand in one smooth motion. “Hey,” he began with a small smile. “How’re you feeling?”

He’d managed to stop crying a while ago, but his eyes felt puffy. The room was still spinning and he was freezing despite his sweater and blanket. “I’m okay,” he mumbled, but he could barely hear his own voice.

Katsudon sat down on the couch next to him, and pulled him against his side, immediately starting to stroke his hair. Yuri let his eyes fall shut. At least Katsudon didn’t smell like soap. “Okay. Nothing hurts?” He shook his head. “No bleeding?”

“No.”

“Has your water broken?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Katsudon gently raked his hair back from his temple. His hands were a bit cool, but smooth and comforting. “How far apart are your contractions?” he asked.

“About fifteen minutes now,” Otabek jumped in. “Forty seconds each.”

“How much do they hurt?”

“Not too bad.”

He hummed. “Can you drink or eat anything for me now?”

“Just had breakfast.”

“You just woke up?”

“A few hours ago.”

He hummed again. “Okay, so you probably went into labour while you were still sleeping.”

Yuri’s stomach clenched and he tightened his hold on Katsudon’s hand.

“What? A contraction?”

He shook his head. “I… it’s too soon. I’m supposed to have three more weeks.” His voice cracked. Katsudon hushed him gently, pressing his cheek to his forehead.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise you. Orya is going to be fine, look she’s just a little bit excited to meet you.”

“But she’s too small.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Yuri swallowed, and another contraction hit. He jerked slightly and bit his lip. It didn’t _hurt_ , really, but his heart was pounding heavily and his hands were so cold and clammy. Otabek sat down next to him and resumed rubbing his back.

“Okay, here’s was we’re going to do,” Katsudon said, after the contraction passed. “We don’t have to go to the hospital right now, so you try to relax. Do you have a bag packed already?”

“Yeah, we did it last night,” Otabek answered. Yuri nodded; they’d made a checklist based on like five different websites, and what Katsudon and Dr. Lebedeva had told them, and double checked everything before they had gone to bed. It was sitting in the closet, waiting. It had been a short wait.

“Good. Now come on, let’s get up.”

“Huh?” Yuri glanced up at him.

He smiled. “We’re making some snacks for the hospital. Trust me, the food there is disgusting, and you’ll need to keep up your strength.”

“O-okay.” Katsudon helped him to his feet, even as Otabek looked mistified.

Grandpa arrived right as he was slicing a few boiled eggs and scooping out the yellow bits. They’d already chopped up some carrots and bell peppers, packed up some almonds and peanuts into small containers, and set aside some fruit and yogurt. It was weird, he thought picking a bit of egg out from under his nail, he was literally in labour, but here he was preparing snacks. Aside from pausing briefly every time a contraction hit, he was actually able to calm down and focus on neatly cutting up his vegetables. Well, breathing wasn’t so hard at least, even if he couldn’t get rid of the tremor in his hands.

Grandpa looked a little confused when Otabek showed him into the kitchen. “I thought-”

“We still have some time before he _needs_ to go to the hospital,” Katsudon provided, smiling. “We’re just doing something to keep him calm right now.”

Grandpa blinked but then bowed his head. “You know more about this than I do. Where’s Vitya?”

“He’s with the kids, _trying_ to keep them busy. Guess what the first question out of Nikitok’s  mouth was when we told them I was going over to help Yuri. Is the baby coming?”

Yuri scoffed, packing up his egg slices into a little tupperware containers. Yeah, Viktor was going to have his hands full. And that was it, all the snacks were taken care of. He waddled over to Grandpa and hugged him.

“Thanks for coming, Deda.”

Grandpa kissed his forehead. “Of course, Yurochka. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.”

Grandpa cupped his cheek and smiled.

Orya wasn’t moving that much, apart from the occasional tap or wiggle she could have been asleep. Which was fine, because the contractions started to fucking hurt. The only thing he could compare it to was a really bad heat cramps. His stomach stretching and pulling, yet trying to squeeze itself into nothing. He had to sit down, unable to do anything but breathe through it as they began to come more frequently and last longer. It was nearing five o’clock now; they had done everything from card games to _finally_ rearranging the living room. Otabek held him against his chest, rubbing his back and pressing his lips to his forehead.

“Yuuri?” his chest rumbled as he spoke. “Do you think we should get to the hospital now?”

“Yeah, already on it.” Yuri heard the fridge open and shut, and few bags zip up. “Where’s his overnight bag?”

“In the closet.”

A few more minutes, then both Katsudon and Otabek were helping him to stand. He barely remembered the car ride to the hospital, just that Grandpa was holding him and rubbing circles between his shoulder blades and Otabek was squeezing his hand, twisting around in the passenger seat. Katsudon’s voice had been a low hum throughout the entire drive, but Yuri didn’t hear a single word. He was settled in a small room, made to change into a hospital gown behind a blue curtain, and was then hooked up to like three different machines. His palms were so clammy he was sure he’d leave marks on the thin sheets if he touched them. Otabek sat on the edge of the bed, with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“You doing okay?” he mumbled, squeezing Yuri’s shoulders.

“Yeah.” His heart was beating in his throat, and the last contraction had him trembling. He watched as the doctor talked quietly to a nurse. Dr. Lebedeva had told him, that he was better off going to a hospital for delivery and had held his hand when she’d said, that even though Orya’s development was on track there was still a possibility that she might need to be put into the natal intensive care unit, and that the birth might be tricky because he was still only seventeen. And now especially that she was three weeks early.

The doctor introduced herself as Dr. Burkova and chatted with him and Otabek for a few moments, asking simple questions, before gently saying that she would like to check how much his cervix was dilated. Yuri wasn’t embarrassed at this point, especially not as another contraction killed all thought, but Otabek looked away, cheeks going red.

He squeezed Otabek’s hand. “Come on,” he panted as Dr. Burkova made notes on a chart. “If that embarrasses you, you’re gonna have a tough time later.” Otabek cleared his throat, blush deepening.

The doctor estimated at least another five hours before he would be ready to start pushing. He was already exhausted and the thought of five more hours was unbearable. Katsudon left to relieve Viktor, but promised he would be back in a few hours. Yuri made Grandpa go with him when he saw him nodding off in a chair in the corner.

The first three hours passed with him and Otabek watching dumb videos on YouTube and taking short walks up and down the hallway. He’d nearly knocked the laptop off the bed once when a contraction had him squirming and crying. Otabek held onto him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. Yuri squeezed his hand so tightly he felt the bones grind, but Otabek didn’t say anything.

Contractions were coming almost every eight minutes now and hurt so badly he thought he was going to throw up. He wanted to slap Otabek every time he told him to breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing, asshole,” he spat, taking a shuddering breath through a clenched jaw. He felt as if he was seeing everything through a haze, each nerve ending was on fire, like someone was hammering a thousand needles into his stomach, and trying to rip him apart at the same time.

Otabek just pet his hair. “The doctor will be back soon; everything is going to be fine.”

Yuri wanted to roll his eyes, but hot tears leaked out instead. Otabek kissed the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Beka,” he swallowed, raising a shaking hand to cup his cheek. “What if she’s too small? What if she has to go into the NICU?”

Otabek sighed, kissing the centre of his palm and gently stroking his wrist. “If she has to go to the NICU then that’s probably the safest place for her. Don’t worry, baby. She’ll be fine. She’s perfectly healthy.”

“But she’s too small!”

“So are you.” He kissed his cheek, running his other palm up and down Yuri’s shoulder. “You’re like 163 centimetres and you weigh like what, forty-nine kilos?”

“Not _now_.”

Otabek scoffed softly. “She’ll be fine.”

Yuri closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Everyone kept on saying that she was small because he was; there was logic behind it, but he knew _cats_ that weighed more than her. How was that possibly okay?

The estimated five hours were bumped up to seven and Yuri nearly burst into tears at the announcement. Was there something fucking wrong with him?

“It’s okay, Yuri,” Katsudon was now sitting at his other side, holding his hand. “First labours are usually longer. Your water hasn’t even broken yet; Orya is doing fine.” Otabek nodded in agreement. “I went through eleven hours with Nikitok, but Maya was only five.”

Yuri scoffed. “Nikita’s a menace,” he mumbled, words slurred. Katsudon stroked his hair.

“Yeah, just like his father.”

But seven turned into nine. Otabek nodded off with his head against Yuri’s shoulder as they tried to get through another movie on his laptop. Yuri wished he could sleep; every inch of his body was aching and his head felt like lead, but each contraction left him feeling like he’d been stepped on by a five tonne giant. He was positive that he was going to start coughing up blood soon. Grandpa was still in the waiting room, and Yuri made Katsudon go check on him every hour or so. The last time he checked he’d fallen asleep on one of the couches. Even the doctor looked exhausted when she came to check on him again, even though her voice was bright and cheery and she smiled when she noticed Otabek sleeping, she had sighed softly and winced when she told Yuri that they were probably looking at twelve hours.

His heart beat like a hummingbird and his throat tightened. “Is there something wrong?” he asked, voice breaking. It was like everything he had been terrified of was happening. Something was wrong with him and Orya wasn’t going to make it. He’d done something wrong, or the fall had fucked shit up. God, Orya -

“No,” the doctor hummed, glancing to Katsudon. “But sometimes this just takes a while. Everyone’s body is different, you just needs the extra time to prepare. What’s important is that everything is fine with the baby. There’s no signs of foetal distress, her heart rate is completely normal, nothing’s wrong with the umbilical cord or placenta. So, we’re doing just fine.”

Katsudon squeezed his hand as he took a deep breath. He had no reason to doubt her, but he did.

“How’s the pain?” Dr. Burkova went on.

It fucking hurt; he honestly didn’t know if he could last three more minutes, much less for three hours, but the hardest part was the waiting. Not knowing when Orya was going to come, _if_ she was going to come. He let his eyes fall shut rather than answer.

Katsudon jumped in, however. “Actually, do you think we could give him some air?”

“An entonox? That’s no problem. Oh um, sorry, I should have asked this from the start, are you his parent-”

Another contraction ripped through him. He clenched his jaw, breath coming in ragged pants as pain rolled in white waves all over his body. Katsudon’s hands were mercifully cool against his cheeks. He grit his teeth together, but choked gasps still made it out. He was panting and shaking when it was over. Katsudon grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently while smoothing his hair away from his forehead with the other.

“Entonox coming right up,” Dr. Burkova said, but hesitated looking between the two of them. Yuri realised that no one had answered her question. He glanced up at Katsudon, who was still stroking his hair and nodded.

“Yeah, he’s my mom.” His voice was scratchy and dry but Katsudon’s eyes widened and his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “He had me at eighteen, though.”

“ _Oh-_ ”

Katsudon sighed, but a small smile played on his mouth. “Let me clarify. We’re not biologically related. He’s my husband’s second cousin.”

“You,” Katsudon trailed off as the doctor left.

“I remember when we first met, you know,” Yuri said, squeezing his hand. “I remember colouring with you.”

Katsudon actually teared up and he took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “Really? That was one of the most terrifying nights of my life.”

Yuri snorted. “Why? Was I that much of a monster?”

“No. It was the first time I ever babysat and Nikolai left us with so many instructions.”

“Instructions?”

A muscle in Katsudon’s jaw twitched. “Do you remember why I had to babysit you?”

Yuri nodded slowly. He didn’t exactly remember, but he remembered his arm being in a cast and he had made Grandpa tell him the full story when he was older. “My mom nearly killed me.”

She had; Grandpa’s voice had still shook with fury when Yuri had asked him to explain what had happened. He had come home one evening to her drunk out of her mind. He had found Yuri in the bathroom curled between the toilet and the sink cabinet nearly unresponsive, and Yuri could only imagine how scared he must have been, how his heart would have raced and his stomach tightened. Grandpa had left his mother alone and rushed him to the hospital. He’d ended up with a broken arm, bruised ribs, and a concussion. And with no other option Grandpa had asked Viktor and Katsudon to watch him for a few days while he sorted things out with child protective services and his mother. He knew why Katsudon had been terrified. He’d been two.

Katsudon gave him an awkward hug, trying not to wake Otabek, and kissed his cheek. “She’s not your mom, okay? I am.”

Yuri giggled, despite hot tears falling down his cheeks, and hugged him back.

 

Otabek woke and jumped a mile into the air when he saw the oxygen mask on Yuri’s face. “Yura,” his voice was panicked. “What-”

“It’s just oxygen,” Yuri answered, pulling the mask away from his mouth. “It’s to help with the pain.”

Otabek swallowed, slowly sitting back down and grabbing Yuri’s hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay. Nothing happened anyway, just more contractions.” He’d been sleeping pretty heavily, actually, not even waking when Katsudon had helped Yuri up to go to the bathroom five different times.

He was coming up on the thirteenth hour now and the doctor had mentioned the possibility of a c-section. He didn’t know how to answer.

“Did you manage to nap a bit?” Otabek asked, tucking a lock of hair behind Yuri’s ear. “You look exhausted, babe.”

“No.”

Otabek sighed, glancing at his phone and swiping away a few notifications. “Grandpa and Katsudon are still here?”

“Yeah.” He had tried to convince Grandpa to go home and sleep in an actual bed, but the stubborn old man was having none of it.

“So, Yelena texted me. I guess my parents are pretty anxious. She said my mom won’t sit down.”

Yuri scoffed. “She better keep her ass at home. She’s keeping those claws away from Orya-”

Yuri stopped talking as two things happened. A contraction much stronger than the last nearly ripped him in half. He screwed his eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. Everything locked into place and he couldn’t even breathe. Then when it was finally over his stomach lurched, and he rolled over and vomited.

Otabek was on his feet in seconds, cleaning him up as best as he could with paper towels. Yuri was dizzy all of a sudden and there was a wetness between his legs and what felt like a slow trickle still leaking from inside. He cracked an eye open to look down at his stomach and Orya kicked him a few times. He saw Katsudon appear in the doorway and freeze with a bottle of water and cup of coffee in his hands before he shut his eyes again.

“I think Orya’s ready now,” he mumbled, biting his lip.

Everything happened so quickly after then, everyone flew past around him. The doctor was staring between his legs, with a nurse in pink scrubs behind her. Otabek was beside him, with an arm around his shoulders and Katsudon held one of his hands tightly in both of his. He was shaking, clenching his jaw as contraction after contraction hit. They were coming so close together now, they felt like they were overlapping. Each time he thought all his organs were going to rupture an his insides would be nothing but a mushy, blood soup when it was over. Pain shot right up to his temples and down to his toenails. He only knew he was crying when tears cooled on his heated cheeks and Otabek wiped them away with his thumb. His vision had been blurry for some time now.

“It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled, squeezing Yuri’s shoulders. “It’ll be over soon.”

“I fucking hate you,” he spat, ending in a long, high groan.

“I know.” He squeezed him again. “It’s almost over. You’re doing so good.”

“Fuck off!”

He bit his lip hard until he tasted blood, then kept going until a strangled scream tore from his throat. It fucking hurt so bad. He couldn’t breathe; even his lungs were on fire.

“I can’t do it,” he sobbed. “It hurts, make it stop!”

“It’s okay, baby.” Otabek dabbed at his forehead with something cool and soft. “You can do it.”

“No,” he whimpered. “I can’t.”

“Yurochka, come on,” Katsudon said from his other side, smoothing his hand up and down Yuri’s forearm. “Remember Orya-”

He hiccuped, his chest seizing again and a new pain hit him in the head with a sledge hammer. “No, she’s too small. It’s too soon.” Something was tight around his throat and chest. “She’s too little, she can’t- no, NO!”

“We need to calm him down-”

“Yura,” Otabek held his chin gently and forcing him to look him in the face. “Breathe with me-”

“It’s too soon, Beka-”

“Come on, deep breath in.”

His vision cleared a bit, looking into Otabek’s endlessly deep, dark eyes. He tried his best to match his breathing. One deep breath in, out in short pulses. Again. His head cleared a bit too, and he found Otabek’s hand against his shoulder, twining their fingers and holding on tightly. He couldn’t look away from him, though; his beautiful eyes held him in place. And as much as it all hurt, he knew Otabek was there with him no matter what.

“She’s crowning.” The doctor’s voice was far away. “Yuri, I need you to start pushing. Can you do that?”

He let out a small whimper and nodded. Pushing, oh God. This was it; his lungs filled with hot bees.

Katsudon’s grip on his hand tightened, and just then another scream barrelled from his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was another contraction, but he was on fire from between his legs right down to his knees.

“That’s it, you’re doing great.”

Otabek smoothed his hair away from his face, echoing the doctor’s words.

Yuri screwed his eyes shut. He was bawling, babbling, holding on to Otabek’s and Katsudon’s hands so tightly his fingers were numb. Dr. Burkova instructed him to push again, sounding further and further away with each second. He was being ripped apart and it burned like someone was holding a flame to his skin. He threw his head back, grinding his teeth together. Otabek wiped his cheeks.

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

Yuri swore, barely able to make his mouth move, but let out another loud groan and hiss, and tightened his hold on Otabek’s and Katsudon’s hands, squirming along the bed. Maybe it would hurt less if he was in a different position, except he couldn’t even move much. He breathed in, hissing through his teeth and cracking an eye open.

“Fuck, I can’t do this-”

“You can.” Katsudon said firmly, still smoothing his hand down Yuri’s forearm. “Just breathe. You’re going to have Orya in your arms any minute now.”

“Orya will be here soon,” Otabek continued, squeezing his trembling shoulders. “She’ll be with us.”

Yuri bit his lip again, knowing it should hurt, but unable to feel it. Orya, he reminded himself, blinking hot tears from the corners of his eyes. She was coming.

“I love you, Yura,” Otabek’s voice was close to his ear. “Hang in there, you’re doing so well.”

Except he could feel his heartbeat in his ears and fingertips, and he couldn’t stop himself from crying or the whimpers that built up to another raw scream. Dr. Burkova kept on telling him to push, and with each tightening of his muscles he thought he would feel relief, but it was just a constant stream of fire. He didn’t know how he had the energy to even hold on to Otabek and Katsudon, and his hand slipped away a few times before either of them could grab it back. The burning got worse, sometimes receding a fraction before re-lighting ten times worse than before. Even the muscles in his neck were hurting from straining. He was shaking, and cold and hot at the same time. And he couldn’t do it, tears cooled as they dripped down his cheeks and the underside of his chin. He couldn’t. It was too much. He wasn’t going to last any longer. Each fibre in his body was turning to ash from the fire. He was going to vomit again or pass out and -

“Okay, that’s the head,” Dr. Burkova’s voice was loud and had Yuri’s eyes snapping open. Otabek’s arms tightened around his shoulders, his chest heaving against Yuri’s arm and his eyes fixated on a spot Yuri couldn’t see. He tried to crane his neck to see, to get the first glimpse of his baby, but Katsudon, held his shoulder down, still massaging his hand. “And one more push, Yuri, we’re right there…”

Fuck. He groaned, breath coming in breathy gasps. It wasn’t over. Threw his head back against the pillow a fresh set of tears bubbling up his throat. Otabek shook his head, tearing himself out of his trance and squeezed Yuri’s shoulders.

“That’s it, baby. You’re almost there.”

Yuri swallowed, squeezing his hand in response.

“Push,” Dr. Burkova, instructed again. Yuri screwed his eyes shut, breathing in shakely through his nose. “Okay, anterior shoulder…” Was she even talking to him anymore? “There we go, Yuri, good job.” He clenched his jaw, teeth chattering in his skull. “And… that’s it! She’s here.”

Yuri’s brain was slow to work; he wasn’t able to process her words before a cry echoed throughout the room and everything fell away. Crying, was that - was that her? Where was she?

“Baby?” His voice was barely a whisper so far away from everything. “Orya?”

The doctor appeared to his right holding a small white bundle and Yuri’s breath left him. He held out his arms, jaw slack and eyes wide. The doctor placed her against his chest, carefully guiding his arms around her and keeping them in place until he could stop most of the shaking. Yuri couldn’t breathe, gasping softly as she wiggled and made soft whimpering noises. She was so tiny, like a little doll; she certainly wasn’t any heavier than one. Her face was a small and puffy with a slight bluish tinge, her dark hair was damp and plastered to her head in fine wisps, and she was covered in some kind of chalky film. She was perfect.

“Hi there,” he whispered, vision going blurry again as he gently ran a shaking finger along her cheek and neck. “Hi, Orya.” She made a small, whining sound before blinking up at him, opening light-coloured, cloudy eyes. Somehow one of her hands bumped against his finger and her minuscule, little nubs closed around fingertip. He hiccuped again, now definitely crying, and tore his eyes away from her face to turn to Beka.

Otabek was silent, staring down at them with tears running freely down his cheeks. Yuri shifted so he could see her better and smiled up at him.

“She’s here, Beka.”

He sniffled, gingerly reaching out and running a finger along her forehead. “Yeah,” his voice cracked. “Hi, Orya, so happy to finally meet you.”

He glanced to Katsudon, biting back a smile when he saw that his eyes were watery as well and he had a hand gently clamped over his mouth. He turned back to Orya, blinking away the tiny tears. This was it, she was finally here in his arms. And he already loved her so much, he didn’t know what to do with it all.

 

“She’s beautiful, Yurochka,” Grandpa’s voice shook as he spoke.

Yuri chuckled. He was so tired; his head felt all fuzzy and he could barely keep his eyes open. But he wanted to stay awake long enough for Grandpa to meet Orya. And he also couldn’t take his eyes off her for longer than a few seconds. She was so tiny in Otabek’s arms, not even longer than one of his forearms. “Beautiful? She looks like a wrinkly potato with hair.” She was squishy and pink after the nurse had bathed her and wrapped her in a white blanket and a matching hat.

Katsudon sighed heavily from his chair next to the bed. Yuri chuckled again, watching as Grandpa clapped Otabek’s shoulder, looking down at the bundle in his arms.

“I was hoping she’d get Yura’s hair,” Otabek said, stroking her cheek.

Yuri rolled his eyes as Grandpa grinned cheekily. “Slim chance of that. Plisetskys usually have brown hair. I don’t know how Yuri turned out blond, probably some genetic malfunction or weird throwback gene.”

Yuri stuck out his tongue.

“Maybe the next one will be blond.”

Katsudon chuckled and Yuri grimaced. “There is _not_ going to be a next one.” Otabek’s eyes flickered to his, before he blushed and quickly looked back down at Orya. Yuri swallowed. “At least not for a _really_ long time.”

Grandpa scoffed. “How much does she weigh? She’s so tiny.”

“Four pounds, ten ounces. Fifiteen inches long,” Otabek answered as a grin broke out across his face when Orya grabbed his fingertip and held on tightly.

Grandpa’s eyebrows jumped. “But that’s nothing.” He scoffed then, started to laugh. “You two have yourselves a little doll.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, yawning widely.

Katsudon got to his feet, squeezing Yuri’s shoulder. “Can I take pictures now, before you fall asleep?”

Yuri groaned, knowing he looked a mess, but nodded. Viktor was probably itching to see Orya. Otabek handed her back to him and settled on the edge of the bed, before Katsudon waved at him to get closer. Yuri didn't even remember the pictures happening, looking down at Orya's tiny face.

Otabek kissed him deeply before the three of them left. Katsudon had convinced him to get some rest at their place. Yuri wrapped his arms around his neck, breathing in as a warmth bubbled in his chest and stomach.

“Beka,” he mumbled against his skin. “We made it.” Otabek kissed him again, and they heard the door shut. Yuri breathed him in, almost light-headed with how happy and tired he was. “I love you so much, Otabek Altin.”

Otabek smiled against his mouth. “I love you even more. Both you and Orya.”

Yuri fell asleep watching Orya sleep soundly in her tiny, glass box a few feet away from his bed. And right then he was positive that she was one of the best things that had ever happened to him in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this chapter will come next week, and the final chapter two weeks after that. **So look out for them August 17 and 31!** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	16. Chapter 16

“You wrapped her up like a _manti_ ,” Yuri said, chuckling softly as Otabek set Orya down in the crib. It was way too big for her; she was a tiny dumpling in the middle of the purple mattress. Otabek, it turned, out was very good at swaddling; the nurse had showed him how less than two hours ago and Orya hadn’t moved since.

“Pumpkin or lamb?” he asked, snickering.

Yuri rolled his eyes, slowly standing from the rocking chair and gingerly padding to Otabek’s side. He wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his temple when Yuri laid his head against his shoulder.

Yuri had been more than relieved when the doctor said that Orya would be able to go home after just a day of monitoring. They had been watching for breathing issues, since she had only been thirty-six weeks and four days, and babies born before thirty-seven weeks could develop respiratory problems. Also, she was just so damn tiny. She had spent her most of her first day and night in the NICU after all, just to be safe. But she had proved them all wrong, when she had woken up with a cry so loud the nurses down the hall came rushing. She had inherited his screaming voice, it seemed.

“She’s beautiful,” Otabek mused, stroking Yuri’s waist.

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure about that.” She was still so pink and wrinkly. “She’s still all smushed. Let’s give her a few more days.”

Otabek rolled his eyes. “What do you expect, she spent the last nine months in water, plus you were pushing for like two hours.”

“It was two hours?”

“You didn’t-”

“I dunno. Wasn’t really focusing on the time, you know, with how much it _fucking hurt_.”

Otabek hugged him tighter. “It was like an hour and fifty-three minutes. But you’re amazing and strong, and we all knew you were going to make it.”

Fuck, no wonder he still felt like death. Yuri took a deep breath through his nose. Time had literally stopped when he had heard Orya’s first cry. And when he’d held her it suddenly didn’t seem so bad. The pain had all been worth it. He would go through anything for her.

They watched as she wiggled weakly, waking up slowly. Then her nose wrinkled and she began to whimper. Otabek got to the crib before Yuri could even take a shaky step, picking her up and cooing softly. Her whimpers got louder anyway, and Yuri could see her little arms trying to work free of her blanket.

“Shhh, little girl,” Otabek hummed. “It’s alright.”

“She’s probably hungry,” Yuri offered, shuffled back to the rocking chair. He grunted softly as he sat down; the padded seat doing absolutely nothing for him. He’d fed her before Viktor had picked them up from the hospital, so it was time for her to eat again. He slipped off his sweater, and pulled down the collar on the loose tank top he’d been wearing underneath. “Give her.”

Otabek looked away after he handed her over, and Yuri scoffed. “You can look, you know.” Orya latched on within seconds. And the feeling was still weird, his stomach had jolted and curled in when she had first started to suck at the hospital. He gently stroked the back of her head, knowing what a mess her wispy hair was under her hat. One of her hands was now free from her blanket and she waved it around, looking for some unknown thing. Yuri stroked her palm and her fingers closed around his. He already loved it so much when she did that. Otabek was leaning on the edge of the crib, both watching and trying not to. “You literally watched her come out of me, I really don’t mind you seeing this.”

Otabek’s face reddened. “I know, but-”

Yuri laughed. “Come on, Daddy, get it out of your system. She’s going to be doing this a lot.”

Otabek shook his head, smiling despite his blush. He pushed off the side of the crib and wearily shuffled over. He bent to kiss Yuri’s temple.

“I hate that I love you so much,” he mumbled. Yuri grinned; he was going to have so much fun calling him ‘Daddy’ just to see him melt. “Do you need anything?”

Yuri hummed. “Actually, could you start the bath? I’m gonna need to soak for like two hours before I feel anything like a human again.”

Otabek kissed him again. “Now? Don’t you want to wait until after Viktor gets back with lunch?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “No. He can fucking wait.”

 

“Why is she so little?” Nikita asked, frowning as he looked down at Orya swaddled in Yuri’s arms. Viktor was holding him up so he could see, but also as a precaution.

“You were that little too, Nikitok,” Viktor said, ruffling his son’s hair.

“I was?” he looked baffled.

“Yup,” Viktor answered cheerily. “You were three kilograms.”

“Is that little?”

“Very.”

“How much do I weigh now?”

Katsudon laughed, stroking Amaya’s hair. “Twenty kilograms, Nika.”

He gasped. “How much does Maya weigh?”

“She’s around twelve.”

He giggled. “I’m bigger.”

“That you are,” Viktor agreed, setting him down. He immediately climbed onto the couch to see better.

Yuri chuckled, glancing up at the two of them. Amaya was sitting quietly on Katsudon’s lap on the opposite end of the couch. She’d been following Orya’s every movement with wide eyes. Amaya had ridiculous focus for a two-year-old, but she was intensely captivated by Orya, not even paying attention when Katsudon called her name.

“What’s her name?” Nikita asked, standing up so he could rest his cheek against Yuri’s shoulder.

“Orya,” Yuri smiled, stroking her cheek.

Orya yawned, blinking awake and looking around in a sort of daze. Nikita giggled. “Maya, look, she woke up!”

Amaya babbled, crawling off of Katsudon’s lap and held onto Nikita to pull herself onto her feet.

“O-ya,” she echoed, with a smile on her chubby cheeks. Yuri smiled back, angling Orya so she could see her better. Amya bounced unsteadily, waving her free hand in excitement and squealing happily. Viktor laughed from over Yuri’s shoulder, holding out his phone and taking like a million pictures. Yuri bit his lip; they were adorable. He hadn’t seen Amaya this excited in a while.

“Here you go, babe.” Otabek was smiling as he spoke, setting down a mug of tea in front of Yuri on the coffee table. He kissed his forehead, before he sat down next to him.

“Thanks,” he shifted, nuzzling against his side. “Hold her for me, I need to go to-” he didn’t miss the way Viktor’s eyes had lit up and he sighed. “Do you want to hold her, Viktor?”

Viktor squeezed himself onto the couch in a heartbeat, grinning and holding out his arms. Yuri scoffed, still mystified at how he could get his mouth to look like a heart when he smiled. He carefully handed her over, reminding himself that Viktor knew what he was doing with a baby; he already had two. Orya squirmed, working her little legs and screwing up her face. She looked like such a little old man with all the wrinkles.

“Hi, Orya,” Viktor cooed, adjusting his hold to get her to settle down. “I’m your godfather, but you can call me Uncle Vitya, the most fun person ever-”

“No, you’re not, Batya,” Nikita said, frowning.

Yuri laughed, slowly standing and shuffling over to the bathroom. The second he closed the door Orya started to cry. Yuri huffed, rushing back out and wincing with every quick step.

“Viktor, what did you do?”

Viktor was rocking her gently, cooing and shushing her, but Orya was having none of it, flailing her arms and legs, mouth wide open and screaming.

Katsudon leaned over, easing her from Viktor’s arms and holding her steady against his chest. Viktor hung his head dejectedly and pouted, watching as Katsudon started cooing. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“She’s so loud,” Nikita grumbled, covering his ears.

Orya quietened down a fraction, whimpering for a few seconds before she started squirming again and began bawling even louder. Otabek got up, hovering on Katsuon’s other side preparing to ease her away from him. Yuri grit his teeth, his spine itching and his lungs were tight in his chest.

“Is she hungry?” Katsudon asked, still trying his best to comfort her.

“She ate like an hour ago.”

“She doesn’t smell like she needs to be changed either-”

Yuri sat back down on the couch. “Give her.”

Katsudon held her over, his eyes wide with concern. Yuri held her to his shoulder, stroking her little back, and pressing his cheek to her head.

“Shhhh,” he breathed, kissing her gently. “It’s okay, baby.”

Her cries turned into watery whimpers that got softer until they stopped all together. Yuri just then noticed that his heart had been racing too. He sighed softly, glaring at Katsudon and Viktor.

“She just wanted her mama,” Katsudon shrugged. Yuri caught Otabek’s eye as he chewed his bottom lip. “Well, I guess she hasn’t really been held by anyone but you two.”

“She can’t even see,” Yuri mumbled. “How does she know.”

“She knows. She can smell you, she knows your voice, and how you feel.”

Yuri breathed out, pressing his lips to Orya’s head. She was already so amazing.

“I’ll hold her then,” Otabek offered. “You still have to go to the bathroom, right.”

Orya fussed a little, whining and whimpering until Otabek pressed her to the side of his neck, humming softly. Yuri shook his head; she really did know. He could have watched Otabek holding her and humming forever, but he really, really needed to pee.

“Is there another baby inside there?” Nikita asked, hanging over the back of the couch, watching as Yuri exited the bathroom.  “Your belly is still so big.”

Yuri glared at him as Katsudon’s head whipped around. “Nikita,” he warned.

“What? I just asked a question.”  

Katsudon gave a long-suffering sigh, and Viktor winced.

“No,” Yuri grunted. “No more babies.”

 

Yuri was yanking his hair out, trying to figure out what the hell his tutor was trying to get him to get out of a story by Chekhov. How the hell was he supposed to write an essay on this? His tutor was staring at him with a small smile on his face watching all the questions build on Yuri’s tongue. But then a sharp cry from Orya’s room drew both of their attention. Yuri swallowed, turning back to his book; he could only wait for Orya to stop crying while he was in the middle of a leason. Otabek rushed into the kitchen, holding Orya to his shoulder as he searched for something in the fridge. Yuri looked up, swearing under his breath, knowing that Otabek wasn’t going to find anything. The fridge closed with a clunk, and Orya’s cries got louder.

“Uh, sorry to disturb,” Otabek mumbled coming up to the breakfast bar. He looked nervously between Yuri and his tutor, spots of red already forming on his cheeks. “Um, Yura, she’s hungry.”

Yuri sighed. He was supposed to have pumped milk last night, but he’d completely forgotten. He glanced to his tutor. “Uh, sorry. This should only take like twenty minutes.

The tutor smiled, shaking his head. “I think we can end our lesson here today. You just finish the reading and take note of any questions you have and we can discuss them tomorrow.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.” He gathered up his books and papers, slipping them neatly into folders. “You just take care of your baby. She’s adorable by the way.”

Yuri smiled, tugging at a lock of hair. “She would be if she stopped crying.”

Settling on the couch after the tutor had left, Yuri unbuttoned his shirt with one hand as Otabek handed Orya over.

“You need to learn to wait,” he grumbled, watching her suck happily like she hadn’t been screaming her lungs out a few seconds ago. She cried to be fed every two hours, like clockwork, regardless if it was day or night. Yuri was considering bringing her crib into his and Otabek’s room so he wouldn't run in anymore doorways, stumbling out of bed in the dark. He pressed the heel of his free plam to one eye, and then the other to chase away sleep.

“I could have sworn we had a bottle in the fridge,” Otabek mumbled, leaning over to stroke one of her flailing hands.

“I meant to pump more last night,” Yuri let his eyes fall shut, throwing his head against the backrest. “But I fell asleep. I need to start setting alarms for this shit.” He had also forgotten to cancel his lessons with the tutor and had tried not to look too frazzled when he had turned up for their Tuesday session. He had called Yuri last week, to switch their Monday class to Tuesday, and it kind of worked out in everyone's favour with how the weekend had gone. Thank God, Otabek only had evening classes on Tuesdays, though.

Otabek chuckled, kissing his cheek. They sat in silence for a while, Yuri trying not to doze off.

“Oh, uh,” Otabek started hesitantly. “My dad called a while ago. They want to come see Orya tonight. My mom’s been getting anxious.”

Yuri growled. “It’s only been like three days.”

Otabek scoffed. “She’ll be furious that your tutor got to see Orya before she did.”

“Good. If I could have my way I’d make it so she would never see her.”

“Yura-”

“She’s a bitch, Otabek.”

“I know, but maybe she’ll get better once she sees her.”

He sighed. “They should come during the evening. After you get back from class.”

He kissed him again. “Okay, I’ll let them know.”

The entire family came over, and Yuri was suddenly glad he’d decided to shower before they came. As much as he hated Sabria, he couldn’t stop the nervous energy that bubbled through him, making him clean, cook a few light dishes, and even change Orya’s mattress cover. He put on actual pants, and threw on an oversized, knitted cardigan over one of Otabek’s button-ups, and set Orya in the fancy baby chair, sleeper things that Katsudon had given him, so they wouldn’t have to crowd in her room.

“She’s so tiny!” Yelena squeaked, covering her mouth and yanking on Nasiv’s sleeve. “I didn’t think she’d be _that_ small.”

Nasiv scoffed. “Newborns are tiny, Yelena. How else do you think they get out?”

Yelena shuddered. “Yeah, I’m never doing that.”

Yuri chuckled, tucking himself against Otabek’s side. He had thought so too. He grinned, turning to her. “Yeah, fifteen hours of labour.”

Yelena’s eyes bulged. “ _fifteen_?”

“Well almost thirteen hours of contractions then two to actually push her out.”

“Holy shit! How are you still alive?”

Yuri chuckled.

“Yelena, mind your language,” Sabria snipped. “Fifteen? I was only ten with Nasiv and less than six with the other two.” She sounded a bit smug.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realise it was a competition.”

The room fell uncomfortably silent for a beat until Otabek’s father cleared his throat, looking down at Orya, sleeping in her chair.

“How much does she weigh?”

“She was four pounds, ten ounces and fifteen inches long,” Otabek answered, holding Yuri tightly.

“That’s way too small,” Sabria exclaimed. “And the doctors let you bring her home?”

“She’s perfectly healthy,” Otabek grumbled.

“They wouldn't have let her leave the hospital if something was wrong, Mom,” Nasiv added. He was backing them up, but he still sounded like such a know-it-all.

She sniffed. “I suppose so. Anyway, she _was_ three weeks early.”

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to find the strength not to kick this bitch out of his home.

“Oh my God, look at her little fingers! She has little nails and everything.” Yelena was on the floor, leaning over Orya’s chair. “She’s so cute!”

Yuri took a calming breath as Otabek patted his side. “If you touch her hand she’ll grab onto your finger.”

Yelena gasped, gingerly reaching out and pressing her finger to Orya’s palm. Orya’s hand closed around her finger and Yelena let out a soft, squeak.

“That’s called the Palmar grasp reflex,” Nasiv said, trying but failing to hold back a smile. “All primates have it.”

“Wait, her eyes are blue?”

“For now,” Otabek shrugged. Orya’s eyes were wide open, staring unfocused at everything. “They’ll probably darken as she gets older.”

“She’d be gorgeous if she got Yuri’s eyes.”

Otabek chuckled. “We’ll see. She might end up with green eyes.”

Yelena hummed. “I hope so. She already got your hair, I see.”

“Well, she is an Altin,” Sabria said, sitting down next to her husband.

“But that’s also just genetics,” Nasiv said, getting onto the floor next to Yelena. “Darker coloured hair and eyes usually have more dominant alleles.”

Yuri bit his lip, holding back a smile. It seemed like Nasiv’s asshole-ishness came in use sometimes.

“Can I hold her now that she’s awake?” Sabria asked, but she was already moving to pick her up.

“Uh,” Yuri took a worried step forward, Otabek’s arm tightened around his waist. “She-”

Sabria already had her in her arms, and Yuri’s stomach churned, his chest going tight. “There’s a good little girl,” Sabria cooed, as Orya started to fuss. “It’s me, your grandmother-”

Otabek swallowed. “Mom, she doesn’t really like-”

“Relax, Otabek. I’ve held babies before. Don’t forget who your mother is.” Yuri’s throat tightened when Orya started to whine. “My God, she doesn’t weigh a thing. Oh, what’s the matter little one? What do you have cry about? Hush now.”

Sabria held her against her shoulder, rubbing her back. And Yuri bit his lip, wrapping his arms around his stomach as Orya began to wail in earnest.

“Mom,” Otabek breathed out in a huff. “She _doesn’t like_ when other people hold her.”

“Other people?” She scoffed, the began cooing and bouncing her gently. “Hush now, little girl, it’s alright.”

Both Nasiv and Yelena looked on nervously from the floor, and Otabek’s father seemed concerned but at a loss.Yuri’s heartbeat was heavy in his ears and he swallowed, pulling away from Otabek’s hold and moving right up to Sabria.

“Give her to me.”

Sabria looked like she was going to protest, but then she looked Yuri dead in the eye and something shifted in her expression and she passed her over. He cradled Orya to his shoulder, giving everyone his back as he kissed the side of her head over and over.

“Shhh, Orya, It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Her cries quietened down to a soft murmur and Yuri let out a sigh of relief, waiting for his heart rate to quiet down as well.

“See?” Otabek said wearily. “She’s not good with other people.”

Sabria huffed. “Well, she needs to grow out of that soon.”

“She’s three days old,” Otabek’s father noted. “Give her time, Sabria.”

Yelena let out a loud gasp, and when Yuri turned around her hand was to her chest. “Thank God, I thought you were going to ask me to hold her next. I’m not going to be the one to drop your baby.”

Yuri scoffed, kissing Orya one last time. And with a sort of muted satisfaction, smiled at Sabria. Orya was _his_ daughter and she was letting everyone know.

 

“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” Otabek said as soon as he had unlocked the front door.

Yuri’s eyes widened and he got to his feet, slowly rounding the edge of the couch. Otabek was holding a bouquet of red roses, like the cliched sap he was. He strode over to Yuri, barely pausing to kick off his shoes, to hand him the flowers and kiss him softly on the lips. His face was almost as red as the bouquet, but he was grinning and his eyes were tender. Yuri let out a breath, trying to bite back a smile as his chest and stomach tightened.

“Oh shit, Beka… Thanks. Happy Valentine’s,” he mumbled, looking down at the roses and pinching a petal between his thumb and index finger. Otabek was still grinning, watching as Yuri stood dumbfounded. Valentine’s day had completely slipped his mind. He hugged the flowers to his chest, breathing in their delicate scent. But there was a cold grinding in his gut. It was supposed to be a night of romance, but even though Orya was sleeping, Yuri had no idea how long that would last for and, “Shit Beka, I don’t think we can have sex tonight. Everything’s still such a fucking mess down there and-”

Otabek’s eyes widened and he jumped back half a step. “No no no no! I didn’t mean… I just saw the flowers on my way home and-”

Yuri scoffed, playfully narrowing his eyes. “So you mean you didn’t even plan anything?”

“I… uh,” he scratched the back of his neck before realising Yuri was teasing him. “Stop it.”

Yuri laughed, hugging him tightly with his free hand and stretching up to kiss him. “I didn’t get you anything, though.”

Otabek tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “You gave me Orya.”

Yuri bit his lip again to stop a wide grin from splitting his face in half. “I’m not letting you let me pass off our daughter as a Valentine’s gift.” He patted Otabek’s cheek before pulling away and heading to the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll make something special.”

He made Kuyrdak because Otabek actually bought liver when he went grocery shopping. The Kazakh recipe was similar enough to a stir fry that Yuri had no problem whiping it up in less than an hour. Boiling the potatoes actually took the most time, but they were sitting down on the couch with a glass of red wine for Otabek and a mug of tea for Yuri before Orya even woke up. There was a warm buzzing in Yuri’s head and chest as he watched Otabek slurp up a noodle and grin bashfully when sauce splattered on his cheek.

Yuri leaned over, wiping the sauce away with his thumb and kissing the spot. Otabek blinked slowly, cheeks reddening and he set down his fork, to cup Yuri’s cheek and guide him in for a quick kiss. Well, Yuri assumed that it was meant to be quick, but neither of them wanted to stop.

But then Orya started to cry, and Yuri jumped away, setting his plate down on the coffee table, before rushing to her room. She’d given them an extra half hour; that was more than Yuri could have ask for.

“She hungry?” Otabek asked, watching as Yuri sat back down, cradling her to his chest. She was still whining and whimpering.

“Yeah,” he sighed, pulling down his collar and guiding Orya’s mouth to his nipple.

Otabek was twirling his noodles around his fork, watching them with a relaxed gaze and a small smile.

“You’re gonna have to feed me,” Yuri teased.

Otabek chuckled, but wound a few more noodles onto his fork and stabbed a chunk of potato. He held out his fork to Yuri, holding it up to his mouth. “Okay.”

He hadn’t been serious, but he wasn’t going to tell Otabek that. Especially not when a noodle slipped from the fork and he picked it up between two fingers. Yuri went for the single noodle instead, smirking as he closed his lips around Otabek’s fingers. He slurped up the noodle, but wrapped his tongue around Otabek’s fingers, while staring him right in the eye. Long since cleaned of sauce, he continued to lick and suck until Otabek let out a loud, shallow breath. Yuri grinned blinking innocently up at him, but it turned into a laugh when he saw his expression.

“You look so confused.”

Otabek bit his lip, frowning. “I am. Like, that was incredibly sexy, but you’re also breastfeeding our daughter. I… don’t… know-”

Yuri cackled, throwing his head back and laughing until he couldn’t breathe. “Holy shit, I love you so much, Beka.”

Otabek blushed, biting his lip as he turned back to his plate. Yuri nudged him with his knee then slowly leaned over, careful not to dislodge Orya. When he turned Yuri kissed him full on the mouth, playing with his tongue like had had his fingers. Otabek breathed out deeply through his nose before giving in fully. He cupped the back of Yuri’s head guiding him deeper, until he stole the breath right out of his lungs.

 

The days started to melt into one another, and Yuri was positive that he was never going to get a full night’s rest ever again. Orya’s first week passed quicker than Yuri could even breathe. He called Katsudon at every chance he got, panicking when her breathing didn’t sound right, or when she coughed, or cried for something he couldn’t figure out. She had a weird rash and her skin was all bumpy and flaky. Sometimes she slept for too long, too, making Yuri rush into her room, heart in his throat until he could see her little chest rising and falling. It was almost too much. How was he supposed to be responsible for this little life and not fuck it all up?

He stroked her tiny cheek, and she yawned turning towards his finger, and blinking like a blind owl. She’d just eaten, so she should have been getting sleepy, but she didn’t seem to want to go the bed just yet.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he hummed, rocking her gently. She just blinked and flapped her arms, clearly not interested in sleep right then. Yuri sighed, but ended up laughing as she stared in fascination at a point over his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

She already had one hell of a scowl; her eyebrows were fine as fuck, but could tell that she was frowning more often than not, and her lips were constantly pouty. She still looked like a little old man, resembling Grandpa more than she did either him or Otabek. But it looked like she had gotten Otabek’s nose if anything, upturned at the tip and one of the cutest things Yuri had ever seen. He gently poked it, and giggled when Orya went cross-eyed trying to stare at his finger.

His heart had never really stopped fluttering. Not since he had brought her home and especially not now when he could just stare at her. A part of him still didn’t believe that she was even real. His baby, here in his arms, for him to love. And he vowed that he would, no matter what.

Still, the week had been difficult. Orya’s screams pierced through any restless sleep he was able to get at night, and the power naps he managed to take during the day. He was supposed to have been recovering as well, but with amount of times he had to get up and see about her fussing had him flat out exhausted. Even when Grandpa and Katsudon came over to help, the most they could do was bring her to him when she cried because she still refused to be held by anyone other than Otabek or him. He was quickly realising that it was a curse, when grandpa gently nudged him awake to hand him a freshly changed but fussing Orya. He checked the wall clock over the television and groaned when he realised that he’d only been napping for ten minutes.

Otabek wasn’t faring any better. Yuri had found him knocked out on the couch three times in the past week with a sleeping Orya on his chest, and a bottle leaking onto the cushion next to him. Yuri had taken pity on him each time and let the two of them sleep. Otabek was still somehow juggling his coursework and job on top of taking care of Orya. He needed all the rest he could get. Yet it was more often than not Yuri was the one being gently woken after he’d fallen asleep, just because he sat down for too long.

But this time he woke to singing. Otabek’s voice was a soft hum, echoing from Orya’s room. Yuri forcing himself up from the bed, blinking away the fog that hung heavily in his head. Otabek sang to Orya when he settled her for a nap, he usually hummed Kazakh lullabies and sang the chorus to the Russian ones. Yuri hadn’t heard this song before. He got to his feet, knees knocking before he could sort his legs out and shuffled to Orya’s room.

Otabek was looking out the window, with Orya against his shoulder, her tiny face pressed to the side of his neck, either sleeping or falling asleep. He paused in the doorway, a smile chasing away the last bit of the fog and tugged his sweater more tightly around his body. Otabek swayed back and forth on his feet, rubbing Orya’s back. His eyes were closed as he sang, and Yuri felt each word like a firework in his chest. His song was slow and gentle, dripping with tenderness, and utterly beautiful. Yuri held his breath, his heart beating slow and heavy.

He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was watch. Golden sun rays squeezed through the spaces in the blind, painting Otabek’s hair red and gold in stripes and turned Orya’s wispy hair into a halo. If he died right then, this would have been his heaven. Yet, Otabek’s song ended all too soon, and he carefully stepped up to the crib softly humming instead.

“Is that one of yours? Yuri whispered as Otabek laid Orya in the centre of her crib. Her face twitched, mouth moving and nose scrunching up when he let go, but she didn’t wake up.

Otabek jumped slightly, his face going red. “Yura,” he mumbled. “I didn’t see you.” Yuri waited, silently watching as he gently ran a finger along the side of her face then slowly backed away from the crib.

“Was that yours?” he repeated, when Otabek was close enough to fo him to wrap his arms around his waist, and guide him out into the living room. “It’s beautiful.”

Otabek bit his lip, ears now red as well. “Yeah, I uh, I made it for her.”

Yuri smiled, reaching up and smoothing his hair from his forehead, before trailing his fingertips along the puffy skin under his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

He stretched up to kiss the corner of his mouth. Otabek turned his head, catching his lips before he pulled away. They shared a slow, lazy kiss, gently swaying back and forth holding each other tightly. Everything just felt so perfect, so completely right. His limbs were lead and the back of his head was still fuzzy with exhaustion. He could feel the tiredness seeping out of Otabek’s pores too. But the moment was still perfect. Every inch of him was covered in warm fuzz, his stomach was tossing butterflies, and his chest was slowly spinning. Otabek’s mouth was hot against his, his breaths long and lazy, and his hands were a bit clumsy as he stroked the side of his neck. Yuri melted into him; his eyes had long since closed, lost to the feeling of being surrounded by this man that he loved so much it made his chest hurt. He let everything flow into the kiss.

I love you, he repeated over and over, kissing him deeper each time. They kissed until they couldn’t breathe and even then were slow to break apart.

“Will you sing it for me?” Yuri asked, resting his head against Otabek’s chest.

Otabek tensed for a second, freezing, but then he wound his arms around Yuri’s shoulders and kissed his temple. His chest moved, rattling and expanding, as he took a deep breath. The room stilled, time seemed to pause, and Yuri glanced up at him, smiling widely. Otabek smiled back and started to sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be on **August 31** \- if something changes I'll let you guys know over on my [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Warnings:**  
>  \- sexual content

**Three years later**

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri’s feet were aching from another gruelling practice; just the thought of walking to the train station was enough to make him groan. Patting a few flyaway hairs back into his bun, he tucked his pointe shoes into his bag, slipped into a pair of sneakers, and pulled on a hoodie over his leotard. It had been a good practice, though, and even after months he still couldn’t believe he was an actual member of the Bolshoi. He looked around the pristine changing rooms, everything was so much bigger than Katsudon’s studio; the rooms echoed and the floors were so shiny he could see himself in them when he walked. It was still so weird, he thought, as he tied his laces. He was a professional ballerina; though, he was only part of the corps de ballet, and everyone at the Bolshoi was so fucking talented. It wasn’t like he was struggling to keep up, but he had been putting in extra hours at Katsudon’s studio whenever he found the time. He hadn’t thought he would have ended up here since he was like seven and dancing around Grandpa in the kitchen in his pink tutu. Funny how things had come full circle - he had started with ballet, but branched out to hip-hop and jazz, and now he was back here, breaking his toes in pointe shoes. And he loved it.  But then again, nothing had really turned out like how he had thought it would. He slung his bag over his shoulder and sprang from the bench; practice was over but his day wasn’t done yet. He had so many errands to run before he could even think about sitting down for the night.

Nodding at the other dancers as he trotted out of the studio, he jogged down the sidewalk in the direction of the train station. Checking the time on his phone, he sped up; the next train was in seven minutes and the grocery store he wanted to go to closed in an hour and a half. It would be cutting it close, but he already knew - 

“Mama!” 

_ Orya _ ? The little voice made Yuri freeze in his tracks and he spun around looking for the source. Was he hearing things now? How the hell could Orya be - and there she was leaning out of the open window of a sleek, black car. Her little hands were waving in excitement, and her hair, which he knew he’d done up in pigtails so it wouldn’t get in her face, was a dark, tangled mess around her shoulders. Yuri doubled back, his heart starting to beat heavily. What the fuck? She was supposed to be halfway across town with Grandpa. Who the hell had taken her?

“Hi, baby,” he called, eyeing the car. His stomach tightened as he prepared to grab her and run. What the actual fuck was going on? “What are you - Beka!” 

At the sound of his name, Otabek slipped out of the driver’s seat and rounded the front of the car. Yuri leapt into his arms and kissed him all over his face. It had only been two weeks, but it felt like he hadn’t seen him in a year. God, and he smelled so good. Was two weeks enough for someone to grow more handsome? 

“You told me you were coming home  _ tomorrow _ , asshole,” he mumbled, as Otabek cupped his jaw with both hands. 

“I missed you too much,” he whispered, kissing Yuri again.

Yuri smiled into the kiss, his chest suddenly tight and warm. He held onto the back of Otabek’s shirt, his nails pulling at the fabric between his shoulder blades, while Otabek’s hands were heavy on his hips. Yuri just wanted to feel him, breathe him in and never let go. God, his chest was too small for how hard his heart was beating. Otabek ran a single finger along his jaw, pulling away slightly and just looked at him with a small smile and red cheeks. Giggling softly, Yuri reached up to smooth his hair back from his temples. 

“Welcome home,” he whispered, tiptoeing to peck him on the tip of his nose. 

His cheeks got even redder, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and the tiny laugh lines around his mouth deepened. Yuri’s heart fluttered; Otabek’s smile went straight through his chest like lightning. 

“Mama,” Orya called from the car, bouncing up and down on the seat. “Daddy’s back!” 

Yuri turned to her after giving Otabek one last kiss on his cheek, and picked her up through the open window. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His entire body was buzzing and light. “He surprised us. Are you happy?” He laughed as he spoke. 

She nodded, nuzzling the side of his neck. Yuri grinned as Otabek reached out to pat her head. 

“We should get going,” he said, winding an arm around Yuri’s waist, and opening the back door where Orya’s carseat was already strapped in. 

He didn’t miss the way she hugged him tighter when she saw it. “Come on, little _prokaznik_ ,” he patted her back, still chuckling. “Into your chair.”

“No,” she grumbled, clinging tighter. It was always a fight to get her into her carseat.

“Orya,” Otabek admonished gently. “Don’t you want to go home for your surprise?” Surprise? Yuri raised an eyebrow. Orya perked up slightly and nodded. “We need you to be good and sit in your chair.” 

She pouted, but allowed Yuri to buckle her in without fussing. Raising an eyebrow, he tickled her belly with his fingertip and when that didn’t stop her from pouting he attacked her armpits and neck. It didn’t take long for her to start giggling, swinging her legs, and grabbing at his hand, forgetting all about being imprisoned. 

“Stop, Mama!” Her voice was bubbly with laughter as she squirmed away from Yuri’s hands. 

Chuckling he relented, but bent to blow a wet raspberry against her cheek. Orya squealed and giggled, pushing his face away.

Otabek was watching, chucking silently with a hand over his mouth. “God, I missed you two so much,” he said, as Yuri shut Orya’s door. 

“Surprise?” Yuri asked, once they were both settled and Otabek had started the car. “You’re not the surprise?” 

Otabek reached over the gear shift and squeezed Yuri’s thigh. Yuri covered his hand and slotted his fingers into the spaces between Otabek's.

“I…” he bit his lip, eyes twinkling in excitement. Fuzzy warmth bubbled in Yuri’s chest. “I have good news.”

“Is that why you’re home early  _ and _ rented a car?” 

Otabek grinned sheepishly. “It’s not a rental.” 

“It’s  _ not a rental _ ?” Yuri ran his fingers along the leather upholstery on the armrest. His head was floating off his shoulders. He looked around the interior, really studying the car. 

“Nope. It’s ours.”

Yuri blinked in disbelief. “Otabek Altin, what did you do?” 

Otabek grinned widely, and turned his hand so he could hold Yuri's hand and rub his thumb against his knuckles.

“Daddy?” Orya called from the backseat. “What’s my surprise?” 

“I can’t tell you, baby,” Otabek chuckled. 

“Why?” Yuri glanced over his shoulder to see her pouting.

“‘Cause it wouldn’t be a surprise.” 

“Why?”

Yuri snorted, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Surprises are secrets.” 

Orya paused, frowning as she thought about it. Otabek squeezed Yuri’s hand, laughing softly. 

“How come?” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Orya, enough.”

Otabek chuckled as Orya began to whine. “That’s your daughter.”

“I had her for two weeks. It’s your turn.” He narrowed his eyes, daring Otabek to argue. 

“Orya, baby,” Otabek said, biting back his laughter. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” She cut her whining instantly. 

“Let’s guess what your surprise is.”

“Okay!” She hummed as she thought. “Candy?” 

“Nope.”

 

Yuri wasn’t expecting dinner to already be laid out on the table when he walked into the apartment, or a giant stuffed bear with a green ribbon around its neck waiting from them on the couch. Orya squealed, dropping Yuri’s hand and racing across the living room. The bear was the same size as her, but she got it over her shoulder and hugged it tightly, bouncing up and down. Yuri sighed - he’d get her shoes off later - and turned around, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s waist.

“You better start explaining what this is all about,” Yuri mumbled, watching as Orya sat the bear back down on the couch and climbed up after. Otabek kissed his forehead, hugging him back. “You told me you were going to Canada to talk about another video with JJ.” 

“I did.”

“And?”

Otabek hugged him tighter. “We both got signed-”

Yuri gasped loudly. “What?” 

“Yeah, he was already talking to them about contracts and stuff, but then he showed them the stuff we’d done together and they said they wanted us both. I mean, it’ll mean a lot more traveling and-”

“Are you serious?” He pulled away, eyes wide and mouth open. Suddenly, it felt like he was spinning and floating, and surrounded by clouds. “Beka, that’s insane! Oh my God.”

He grinned, ducking his head as his cheeks turned pink. Yuri reached up, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. “There’s still a lot of stuff we have to discuss for the contract, but-”

“Oh stop it, I know there’s lots of little annoying details, but this is so good, babe.” He hugged him again, pressing his face to the centre of his chest. “I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

Otabek splayed his hands across his back. “Well if it hadn’t been for  _ someone  _  sending JJ my  _ unfinished _ file-”

“It was  _ done _ ! Oh my God, you were just obsessing over nothing, and JJ told me to send it anyway.”

Otabek kissed his temple. “Thank you,” he hummed. “You’re where more than half my confidence comes from.” His cheeks and ears were red when Yuri looked up and he felt a stupid smile crack his face. 

Otabek hooked a finger under his jaw, capturing his mouth and kissing him deeply. Yuri clung onto his shirt; two weeks had been way too long for this. The video calls had almost been painful when he couldn’t kiss him goodbye. 

“God, I love you so much,” Yuri mumbled between kisses. 

Otabek’s hands tightened around his waist. 

“Mama, Daddy?” Orya was suddenly at their feet; they slowly pulled apart to look down at her.  “What’s his name?” She pointed at the bear.

Otabek smiled, resting his palm against the top of her head. “You get to name him.”

Her eyes widened. “Me?” 

“Yes, baby girl.”

Her little mouth dropped open, and she turned around to scrambled back to the couch.

“Orya,” Yuri called, stopping her in her tracks. “Did you forget something?” 

She turned around frowning, and looking so much like Otabek that Yuri’s heart clenched. She had his face mostly, his nose, his mouth, his eyebrows, and cheeks. Her eyes had eventually darkened to a greenish-hazel, but the shape of them were all Yuri’s, and she was almost as pale as he was. Plus, her stubbornness was exhausting. 

“No,” she answered grumpily. 

“Orya.”

She looked up, confused, and Yuri sighed, taking pity on her. “What do you say when someone gives you something?”

Her eyes lit up and she bounced back over to them, wrapping her arms around Otabek’s legs. “Thank you, Daddy!” 

Otabek bent down to pick her up, and she placed a big, exaggerated kiss on his cheek. Yuri rolled his eyes; Viktor had taught her that. “You’re welcome, Princess.” 

“Take off her shoes, please, Beka,” he said, shaking his head and moving to peer at the dishes of food on the table. He knew Otabek had meant well by setting it out, but it would have to be reheated. 

 

“She’s sleeping already?” Yuri asked, as Otabek shut the bedroom door behind him. He had been in charge of Orya's bath and getting her ready for bed. Yuri didn’t lift a single finger, but he had gotten an adorable video of her wiping a foamy hand across Otabek’s jaw, and then of her tearing down the hallway in her hooded, ducky towel and climbing up on the couch, laughing and screaming like a little hellion. Otabek didn’t even look upset when he grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder. He stuck out his tongue at the camera on his way back to Orya’s room. 

“Yeah, fell asleep two pages in. All that excitement finally caught up with her.” He pulled back the covers, getting underneath them and sliding right up to Yuri. “She won’t let go of that bear, though.”

Yuri scoffed, tracing the line of Otabek’s jaw with his fingertips. “She won’t for a while. We’re going to have to keep it away from the bathroom.”

He chuckled, turning his head to kiss the centre of Yuri’s palm. “I missed you so much,” he breathed. His lips tickled Yuri’s palm. 

Yuri moved closer, until every inch of them was touching, and he pressed a soft, slow kiss to Otabek’s mouth. “I missed you too.” His voice was already breathless. 

The kiss turned hot and heavy in no time at all and Yuri swung his leg over Otabek, climbing onto his waist and holding his face as they kissed. He couldn’t touch him enough, his chest was going to explode with need and heat was clouding his mind. Otabek rubbed circles into his waist, fingertips dipping below his waistband at the small of his back. He was finally home, and everything was just going so well for him. Yuri had always known that he wasn’t just going to DJ at a nightclub for his entire life. He was too fucking talented to go unnoticed, so when JJ asked him to send a mix sample and not tell him about it, he knew that something was brewing. He would have to send JJ a gift basket or something. He and Bella were coming later that summer to visit to celebrate Otabek’s graduation. 

Otabek nipped at his bottom lip, before pulling away. “What’re you thinking about?” 

Yuri blinked, pressing his tongue to ease the slight sting. “Just how much I love you.”

Otabek blushed and Yuri dove back in, kissing so fiercely he pushed him into the pillows. Otabek moaned deeply at the back of his throat and squeezed Yuri’s waist bruisingly tight. His hands were fire and Yuri breathed him in, goosebumps rising wherever he touched. God, he had missed him so much; he didn’t realise just how much, until hot need hollowed out his chest. He felt himself harden, the soft cotton of his boxer-briefs suddenly painfully tight. His stomach was tingling with enough fire to make him sweat. Otabek pushed his underwear past his hips, palming his ass cheeks, pinching, squeezing, and dipping his fingertips into the crease. Yuri ground his hips downwards, moaning, feeling as Otabek hardened in his sweats. Heat was pooling in his stomach, fire running in his veins, and he felt familiar wetness between his legs. 

Breathing heavily, they finally broke apart to just look at each other. 

“Fuck, I need you so badly, right now,” Yuri huffed, his breath coming out in short pants as he traced the outline of Otabek’s mouth, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Otabek’s eyes were like the night sky, dark and endless, and his skin was golden in the dim lamp light. Yuri traced a mussed up eyebrow with his thumb, smoothing the hairs back into the correct direction before kissing it. Otabek smoothed his palm against his jaw, breathing in slowly through his mouth. His chest heaved, and his exhale was like smoke across Yuri’s face. 

“ _ Me _ ?” he mumbled, threading his fingers through the hair at Yuri’s temple. “I still can’t believe I ended up with you. You’re perfect.” Yuri’s cheeks went hot as he guided him back down and into a gentle kiss. “My husband.” He kissed him again. “The mother of my child.” Another kiss, deeper this time. “My best friend.” 

Yuri melted against him, and kissed him until his lips were rubbed raw and burning. 

Minutes, or hours later, Yuri was on his back, the sheets sticking to his sweaty, bare skin, panting and staring as Otabek bit his lip, his face screwing up with need. He cupped his jaw, then trailed his hand down his neck, down his chest and hi bare side, before splaying his fingers across the small of his back. He could only use one hand to touch; Otabek had the other held tightly in his, squeezing as if he was scared Yuri would evaporate. 

Otabek let out a soft, breathy moan when he slowly pushed into him, and Yuri drew in a sharp high breath, sinking his teeth into the meat of Otabek’s shoulder. Two weeks was really no time at all, when he thought about it, yet it was far too long to not have been able to touch him, to feel him move against him - in him - to feel his breath, his heartbeat, hear his soft grunts, and breathy sighs. Yuri  moaned loudly, his mouth hanging open as each slow thrust drove him mad. The slow, smooth drag made his breath catch in his throat, and his stomach was tight with overwhelming heat, yet fluttering and trembling at how fucking good it felt. Otabek had a death grip on his hand, but his face was pressed to the side of his neck, each breath was fire, yet each kiss and every time he mouthed at his pulse had Yuri quivering. 

They held each other, moving together, breathing together. Yuri wrapped his free arm around Otabek’s shoulders, holding him as tightly as he could. 

“Beka,” his voice came out as a breathy whine. “God, I love you.” He broke to moan when he struck something deep within him. “I love you.” 

Otabek kissed up his neck and found his mouth again, swallowing every sound he made. He kept up a painfully slow rhythm, tender almost, but pushing in so deep Yuri felt it in his lungs. They kissed slow and deep as well until they were both light-headed and breathless, floating and giggling. 

When Otabek was close, picking up his pace slightly, he reached in between them, wrapping his fingers around Yuri, teasing and stroking him until he was shaking and babbling his name like praise. Yuri arched up off the bed, his entire body in bliss as he felt himself twitch in Otabek’s grasp, reaching his end with a shout right from his stomach. Otabek swallowed his whining moans, lapping them away with a lazy tongue, and came a second later, pushing in impossibly deep and stilling as his mouth hung open against Yuri’s jaw. 

They lay holding each other as they slowly came back down, hearts racing together. Otabek’s breath was hot against Yuri’s neck, his entire body was a furnace, but Yuri pressed against him, not ready to let go just yet. Their hands were still clasped tightly, and when Yuri looked down their bodies, the dim glint of matching silver rings made him smile. He peppered slow kisses across Otabek’s face until he fell asleep. 

 

“Wow.” Otabek blinked when Yuri stepped out of the bathroom. “You look amazing.”

Yuri smiled, smoothing down the hem of his white dress, and toyed with a curled lock of hair.

Orya looked up from untying her bear’s bow and smiled too. “Princess Mama,” she giggled, making the bear wave at him. 

Yuri chuckled; Orya liked princesses, but when he had tried putting her in dresses and frilly skirts, they came off as soon as they went on. She pulled the skirts up to her waist, and, if the dresses were loose enough, just pulled the entire thing off over her head. She didn’t seem to like the feeling of loose fabric swishing around her legs. So, he’d given up putting her in them, and he honestly didn’t mind, especially because Sabria kept on buying them for her. Besides, she was just as cute in pants and skorts. 

“Really, Yura,” Otabek stood from the bed, walking over to smooth his palms down Yuri’s sides. “I thought it was supposed to be  _ my _ party.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, as he straightened Otabek’s tie. “ _ You _ actually want to be the centre of attention?”

He didn’t answer and Yuri laughed, fixing his collar as well. 

He didn’t want to go to any party Otabek’s parents were throwing, but it was for his graduation and Katsudon, Viktor, and Grandpa were going as well. He could suck it up for one night. Besides he wanted to see the look on Sabria’s face when Otabek told them he got signed. 

Orya’s shirt was rumpled by the time the arrived, and Yuri wondered how because all she had done was sit in her carseat and play with her bear for the past twenty minutes. She was somehow muddy too, and she hadn’t even touched the ground. He wiped at a smudge on her leg while Otabek unloaded the tray of cherry-filled piroshki and bowl of salad from the trunk. 

“Beka, is that you?”

Sabria called from the front door. Of course it was them, she had seen them coming through the window; they had to park down the street with how many cars were in front of the house. 

“Hi Mom,” Otabek called, as she rushed down the steps to hug him. 

“The man of the hour,” she said. “It’s a pity you missed your own graduation ceremony. It would have been nice to take pictures.” 

Otabek sighed. “Well, I was in Canada, mom-”

“You could have gone a different time.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

She huffed then, as if she had just noticed Yuri standing behind him, plucked Orya right out of his arms. Yuri took a deep, calming breath, which wasn’t calming at all. 

“And hello to you too, my little precious,” she cooed, bouncing her. Yuri crossed his arms across his chest, grinding his teeth. At least Grandpa’s car was parked in the driveway. 

“Hi,  _ Apa _ ,” Orya mumbled softly. Otabek guided him inside the house.

“Hi, sweety. And how are you today?” 

“Daddy got me Poojy.” 

“A what?” 

She pointed to the bear Yuri was holding. “Poojy.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes playfully, before handing Otabek the bear and taking the food from him. The dining table was already set with dishes so he found a clear spot for the salad, and turned to put the desert into the kitchen, but walked right into a set of open arms. 

“Thank God, you’re finally here,” Grandpa said, hugging him tightly. “These people are driving me mad. Was Beka’s brother always this… obnoxious?” 

“Now you know my pain.” Yuri kissed him on the cheek. “Sabria already stole my daughter and hasn’t said one word to me.” 

Grandpa rolled his eyes, cupping the back of Yuri’s head. “You look beautiful, by the way. Stunning.” 

Yuri grinned. “Thanks.”

Grandpa winked at him, then said louder than was necessary, “Now, where’s my little pirozhki?”

“Deda!” Orya shouted, squirming in Sabria’s hold to get to him. Yuri scoffed when she had no choice but to hand her over or risk dropping her. The bitter expression on her face was going to make him happy for weeks. 

Sabria did find another way to irk him, however, when she pushed Nasiv and a strange blonde girl up to him later that evening. He took a big gulp from his glass of wine and tried not to wince at the sournes. 

“Yuri, you haven’t met Nasiv’s girlfriend yet, have you?”

Girlfriend? He shook his head, now really looking at the girl and had to do a double take. She seemed a little taken aback as well. They were both blond with green eyes, they even had a similar build and were roughly the same height. There was a short pause before Yuri held out his hand to her and raised an eyebrow at Nasiv.

“Hi, I’m Yuri,” he introduced himself. “Otabek’s husband.” 

She shook his hand, smiling. “Otabek’s…?”

“Nasiv’s brother.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, right,  _ brother’s husband _ .” Her smile was bright, but Yuri could see the questions building behind her eyes. 

He had his own questions too, but Yelena came bustling in and grabbed Yuri’s hand before he could ask any.

“He’s so damn petty,” she muttered, tugging Yuri out to the backyard. “You know his Tinder profile said he was interested in blondes?” Yuri snorted, taking a sip of his wine. He still thought they all tasted like dirt, but Otabek had sworn that this one was different. “I mean, grow up Nasiv.”

Yuri shrugged, sitting down on one of the lawn chairs set up for the bonfire they were going to start later. “She seemed nice.”

“That’s not the point, though. He shouldn’t be trying to upstage Beka at his graduation party. Yeah, show up with a hot, new girlfriend who just so happens to be blonde, and show her off like she’s a fucking piece of meat? They’ve only been dating for like a week, he didn’t have to bring her.” 

Yuri grinned, elbowing her before pulling her down to share his chair. “I dunno, you Altins seem to have a thing for blondes. How’s the girlfriend by the way?”

Yelena blushed and rolled her eyes. “Okay,  _ that _ one was a coincidence. And she’s fine, she’s with her parents in Borneo right now.” She took a sip of her own drink, a small glass of vodka and bit her lip. “Thanks by the way. For all the advice; I’m not good at this dating stuff.” 

Yuri smiled; he wasn’t any better, but all these years with Beka had helped. “It’s nothing. I’m always happy to help my little sister.” 

Yelena beamed when she smiled. 

“Yuri’s giving dating advice now?” Katsudon slipped onto the lawn chair next to them. 

Yuri scoffed. “Not really-”

“He’s good at flirting, and answering text messages.” Yelena shrugged.

Katsudon laughed. “Yeah, I believe that.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Great, I’ll put it on my resume.” 

“So, what’s up with the shiny new car you and Otabek pulled up in,” Katsudon leaned back, grinning wickedly as he brought his beer to his mouth. 

Yuri smirked as Yelena raised an eyebrow in question. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Well,” he shrugged, looking down into his wine. “Beka has a really big announcement to make later.”

“ _ Beka _ does?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine,  _ I  _  do.” 

“Are you pregnant again?” 

He punched her. 

Yelena wandered off after her phone buzzed with a text message and Katsudon took her spot, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

“You look really good tonight,” he said softly, smiling. “You probably already knew, but Otabek couldn’t look away, even when he was talking with his friends.”

Yuri snorted, elbowing him softly. “It’s mostly just to rile up Sabria. She still calls me a whore.”  Katsudon’s eyes bulged. “Not to my face. Yelena said she calls me that to her friends. But she wouldn’t dream of saying anything around me, ‘cause she wants to be able to see Orya.”

“The bitch,” he mumbled. Yuri shrugged. “What is up with these horrible mothers?  _ Both  _ you and Otabek-”

“Hey, you were a great mom; don’t lump yourself together with her.” 

Katsudon rolled his eyes before shaking his head, and tightening the arm he had around Yuri’s shoulder. The sat in silence for a while; Yuri studied his pale leg against Katsudon’s dark jeans and smiled as he rested head against Katsudon’s shoulder. 

“So, this big announcement?” he asked. 

Yuri chewed the inside of his cheek as he forced down another mouthful of wine. “Here, trade me.” He grabbed Katsudon’s beer. 

“Is it the reason why he went to Canada?”

“Yeah.” He was going to find out anyway. “ He and JJ got signed by a record label over there.”

Katsudon gasped. “That’s amazing, Yuri! I’m so happy for you guys.”

Yuri grinned, running the tip of his finger around the mouth of the bottle. “Yeah, he’s really happy about it.”

“But?”

“But?”

“There’s always a but.” Yuri frowned. How did he do that? Yeah, there was a but, a small but, but he hadn’t even really thought about it himself.

“Come on, talk to me.”

Yuri shrugged. “It means he’ll have to travel more. Between here and Canada, weeks at a time, maybe months. And It’ll just be me and Orya. I mean, it’s dumb; this is one of the greatest things to happen to us, to  _ him, _ and I’m not going to ruin it for him by being clingy-”

Katsudon hugged him tightly. “If it’s one thing I know about Otabek, it’s that he loves you and Orya more than anything else in the world. It’s going to be hard, if he has to travel as much as you say, but you guys will make it work. You’ve done it before.” 

Yuri nodded, breathing in deeply. It wouldn’t be the hardest thing they had done. He looked down at the ring on his finger, twisting it around his knuckle. “Yeah.” 

Katsudon let go of him and brushed a lock of his hair behind his ear, smiling. “And if it’s harder than you think it will be, I’m here. And Vitya, and your Grandpa. Remember that, we’re always here.” 

“I know.” 

He did, Katsudon had been the biggest help when he was up to his ears with Orya. He had come to him in tears many times because he just didn’t know what to do with her. He couldn’t handle her when she threw tantrums and was so stubborn that not a single thing he did would get her to behave. Hearing her cry was one of the hardest things he had to learn to get through, ugly memories resurfaced from his own childhood, and sometimes the best thing to do was just to pass her to Otabek, or Katsudon, or Grandpa and just go for a long walk to pull himself back together. Katsudon had convinced him that doing so was okay, that he wasn’t a terrible mother for not being at one hundred percent all the time. 

“Thanks.”

“Hmm?” Katsudon tilted his head to the side.

“Thanks. I mean for everything.” 

He smiled widely. “Of course. It has been a… wonderful adventure watching you grow up into this amazing person and-”

Little cries cut through Katsudon’s sentence and they both turned to see Amaya, holding a sniffling Orya by the hand. Yuri’s chest was immediately like iron, and his stomach squirmed. 

“Um, Papa, Yuri,” Amaya said softly, looking up at them with wide, doe-eyes. “Orya fell. She was, um, running inside for her new bear and she, uh, she tripped.” 

Yuri immediately began searching Orya for any injuries. There was no blood or serious scrapes,  and she wasn’t bawling, which meant she wasn’t hurt that badly, just shaken up. So, he took a deep breath and pulled on a smile. 

“Oh oh, baby, come here.” He pulled Orya to his chest, hugging her tightly and kissing her forehead. She held onto the front of his dress, whimpering. Everyone else was still inside, they mustn't have seen. “What hurts?” She pointed at her knee with one hand and rubbed at watery eyes with the other. Yuri bent and softly pressed his lips to her little grass stained knee; her whimpering got softer. “Is that better?” She shook her head. “No?” He hugged her and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck sniffling against his pulse. “Okay, let’s go find Daddy, so he can kiss it better too.”

He got up after gently patting Amaya on the top of her head. Katsudon had set her on his lap and she was looking nervously at Orya. “Thank you, Maya,” he said and she visibly relaxed. “You were very good bringing her to me.” 

Katsudon smiled up at Yuri and hugged Amaya tightly. 

“What happened?” Otabek asked, excusing himself from his conversation with Leo as Yuri walked up to him. Orya was still sniffling, but Yuri knew that she was only putting on a show at this point. He handed her over and she attached herself to Otabek’s neck like a little leech with pigtails. 

“She fell.” 

Otabek cooed softly at her, rubbing her back, and patting the back of her head. 

“Was it bad?” he asked once he sniffling stopped. 

Yuri shook his head. “I think she’s just tired.” 

“Do you think she’ll go for a nap right now?” 

Yuri shrugged. “We can try.” 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take much to get Orya to go to sleep. She snuggled her bear and was out like a light within minutes. Otabek and Yuri watched her curl up in the centre of Otabek’s old bed. 

“All this was probably too much for her,” Yuri mumbled. “She got too worked up.” Otabek nodded, gently pulling Yuri against his side. “And she and Maya were playing pretty hard. They were playing hide and seek for a while with Nikitok before Viktor gave him his tablet.” Nikita had been in the same corner in the living room ever since. 

“Hmmm,” Otabek pressed a kiss to Yuri’s hair. “She’s been going for hours then, no wonder.” 

Yuri laid his head against the side of Otabek’s chest. “We’ll wake her up in time for the bonfire. I know she was excited about that.”

Otabek nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence. Orya shifted, hugging her bear tighter, and Yuri sighed. He’d tied back its bow, but Orya had pulled it loose again. 

“You know,” Otabek mumbled into Yuri’s hair. “Every time I watch her like this, I still can’t believe how much I love her. She’s so perfect.” 

She was. Yuri’s chest almost hurt when he looked at her sometimes. This perfect little girl, who he didn’t think he could love anymore than he did. His little girl, his and Otabek’s daughter. 

“When she’s sleeping.” Yuri tugged Otabek’s arms around his waist, and turned around so he was facing him. “‘Cause you know for a fact she’s a monster when she’s awake.”

Otabek grinned, bending his neck a placing a light kiss to Yuri’s lips. “And who’s fault is that, I wonder?” 

“Oh, shut up.” Yuri rolled his eyes as he slung his arms over Otabek’s shoulders and kissed him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! :)
> 
> As always, feel free to check out what other writing projects I have going on over on [Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/) !


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